Endless Night
by The Modern Sorcerer
Summary: After an incident during his Occlumency lessons, Harry Potter finds that his life is not his own. So he takes it back... violently. Struggling to find who he really is when his memories are fabricated, Harry embraces the life he didn't even remember he'd lost, while trying to not just kill everyone responsible... and then some. After all, he's half-demon, not criminally insane.
1. Memories

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

"Stand up and draw your wand, Potter".

Nervously making his way to his feet, Harry drew his wand and held it out between himself and the Potions Professor. The desk between them, the two of them faced each other down, an eager look in Snape's dark eyes as Harry dreaded what was about to happen.

"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," Snape said slowly, his sneer revealing that he clearly didn't think Harry capable of protecting himself.

"And what are you going to do?" Harry asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively, not liking the idea of it being aimed at him any more than he liked the idea of having the foul man wielding it in his mind.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Snape, not at all sounding like he believed it would be hard. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this… brace yourself".

" _LEGILIMENS_!"

Caught unprepared as Snape struck, Harry didn't have a change to even _try_ resist the attack, the office swimming in front of him before vanishing sharply as image after image shot past his mind's eye like a scarily vivid film.

He saw himself when he was five, watching through the slates in his cupboard door as Dudley rode through the house on his brand new red bicycle. He saw himself when he was nine, trapped up a tree as Ripper the Bulldog snarled at him, Dudley throwing rocks up at him as the Dursleys laughed. He saw himself when he was eleven, sitting beneath the Sorting Hat as it whispered how great he could be in Slytherin. He saw himself when he was twelve, alone in the Hospital Wing, reading Hogwarts: A History softly to a petrified Hermione. He saw himself when he was thirteen, standing over an unconscious Hermione and Sirius Black as a horde of dementors flew across the lake towards him. He saw himself when he was fourteen, watching as Cedric hit the ground limply in a flash of emerald-green light. He saw himself when he was fifteen, standing beneath the mistletoe as Cho Chang leaned closer and closer. And then he was eleven again, standing before the Mirror of Erised, staring into it desperately as a strange mist clung to everything it touched.

He could almost feel the backlash as Snape's mind came to a sudden halt and tore that memory to the front of his mind, diving into it greedily.

" _Back again, Harry?"_

 _Feeling as though his insides had turned to ice, Harry spun around, freezing at the sight of none other than Albus Dumbledore sitting on one of the desks up against the wall. How had he not seen him? Had he truly walked right past the Headmaster in his rush to get to the mirror? Or had the old man entered afterwards when Harry was captivated with his reflection?_

" _I… I didn't see you, Sir," Harry admitted slowly when it became apparent that the Headmaster was waiting for an explanation._

" _Strange how near-sighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore mused thoughtfully, the small smile tugging at his lips enough to cause relief to flood Harry's chest. "Especially when one's mind is filled with the wonders of the Mirror of Erised"._

 _Harry paused for a moment, glancing back at his family in the mirror before turning to frown at the Headmaster. "Is that what it's called then, Sir?" he asked hesitantly, "The Mirror of Erised?"_

" _Indeed it is Harry," the Headmaster agreed, not moving from his desk as his eyes twinkled in the faint torch light. "So… now that you know its name… can you tell me what it does?" the man questioned slowly._

" _I don't know, Sir," Harry confessed automatically, turning back to the mirror, his family no longer looking back at him and instead glaring over his shoulder at the Headmaster._

" _How about this," the unknowing Headmaster began, "The happiest man on Earth could look into the Mirror, and see himself, exactly as he is. To him, it would be a normal mirror, no different than any other in this castle"._

" _The mirror in my dormitory calls us all fat," Harry interrupted, blinking over at the shocked looking man, "It told me I needed to try the 'Roman Diet'"._

" _It's a mirror Harry," Dumbledore said slowly, "I hardly think that a mirror is an expert when it comes to the nutritional needs of an eleven year old boy. I assure you, as the one who chooses the menus himself, that what you eat every day is healthy for you"._

 _Pausing to take in this knowledge, Harry tilted his head slowly, "Does this mean I should ask you if we could have chicken pie for dinner tomorrow?"_

" _Consider it done," the Headmaster said with a chuckle, Harry beaming at the man before turning back to watch his reflection for a moment. "But the Mirror? Do you understand its purpose yet?" he pressed slowly._

 _Stopping again to think, Harry tore his eyes away from his smiling mother and stared down at the ground, deep in thought as he ran over what the Professor had just said about the Mirror. "It… it shows us whatever will make us happy?" he asked hesitantly._

" _Yes, and no," Dumbledore agreed. "It shows us nothing less than the deepest most desperate desire of our heart. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Young mister Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, as the best of them all. However… this mirror will give you neither knowledge nor truth," the Headmaster warned, "Greater men than ourselves have wasted away in front of it, entranced by what they see and driven mad by it. One can never know if what they see is real or even possible, after all"._

 _The Headmaster paused, eyes lifting up past Harry to stare into the mirror himself, the twinkle dying slightly. "The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I must ask you to not go looking for it again," he requested as the dark mist seemed to just vanish suddenly, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that"._

Gasping as Snape's office came back into view suddenly, Harry inhaled greedily for air as he quickly stared up at the Professor, who was staring at Harry as if he didn't know what to do with him all of a sudden.

"That memory. What is it of?" the dark-eyed man demanded silkily, "ANSWER ME!" the Professor roared.

"A Mirror!" Harry blurted quickly, pushing himself back up to his feet. "A Mirror I saw in First Year, it showed me my family. Professor Dumbledore moved it to hide the Philosopher's Stone after that, it stopped Vold- You-Know-Who from getting it".

Snape stared at him for a moment longer, seemingly going over his thoughts before finally saying "If that is the case… then pray tell, _why_ is that memory false?"

"Fal- what?"

"Why is that memory false?" Snape snarled angrily, striding around his desk to grab Harry by the jaw, twisting his head up to stare into his eyes. "Did you not see the fog within your mind?" he growled, "Or were you too dimwitted to even notice it? _What_ is it hiding?" he demanded, "WHAT?"

"I don't know!" Harry defended, unable to pull his jaw away from Snape's grip without using his wand, something he knew would come back to bite him in the end. "I didn't even know it was fake!"

" _LEGILIMENS_!"

Unable to even move, Harry was forced back into his memories, Snape tearing through them all and finding fake memory after fake memory after fake memory squirreled away within Harry's mind. He could see no pattern to them as they flicked past; some were of dangerous times, like when Professor Lupin transformed and attacked them, like when Harry went down into the Chamber of Secrets and Lockhart obliviated himself, and even the Dementor attack at the beginning of the year. And some were so simple… an entire hour-long memory of Harry talking to Hermione in the library about the _Incindio_ charm versus the _Glacius_ charm, an afternoon at Privet Drive where he'd been doing his homework, the time where he'd 'borrowed' some food from the Great Hall and he'd brought Hermione and Ron up to the Astronomy tower for a picnic at the end of First Year.

Hissing in pain as Snape threw his jaw to the side, twisting his neck painfully as the man stalked off behind him, Harry rubbed his throat as he resisted the urge to turn around.

False memories? What was the Professor even talking about? Harry didn't know memories could be _read_ before Christmas that year, let alone falsified. He wouldn't have any clue about _how_ to fake them either, Hermione hadn't been able to find anything on memories when she searched the library for books on Occlumency, and considering how Hermione was his go-to source of knowledge that was saying something.

"Here!" Snape spat as he reappeared in front of Harry, "Drink this Potter. Hurry up!" the man ordered as he shoved a small smoking vile in Harry's face. "Should you truly know nothing of these false memories, then you'll have no problem drinking this restoration potion, unless the great Harry Potter is too good to believe a mere 'dungeon bat' like myself?" he asked with a sneer.

Pausing for a moment to glare up at Snape, who was now just being petty and was obviously trying to egg him on, Harry accepted the potion, stopping only to eye it hesitantly before downing it in its entirety. Snape was an idiot, but not even he was stupid enough to poison Harry when Dumbledore knew where they both were.

He wasn't entirely sure what was supposed to happen next, Snape just kept staring at him expectantly, and Harry felt no different even after he'd handed the empty potion vial back. "Is something supposed to be happening, Professor?" he finally asked hesitantly, the man's eye twitching angrily at his voice.

"The mind is a fragile thing, Potter," Snape said slowly, all traces of anger gone from his voice as – _was that concern?_ \- filled his eyes. "The potion must work slowly to ensure your memories are returned in one piece, and not shattered. Although…" he continued softly, "I have yet to see it take _this_ long".

"If this potion restores memories, then why not try that on Professor Lockhart?" he questioned curiously, Snape rolling his eyes so wildly Harry feared they'd roll out of their sockets.

"I'd hardly call that buffoon a Professor," Snape countered, speaking almost _civilly_ to Harry, "And his memories were not altered, they were erased. Were he of any skill, in obliviation, then he could have left traces, as it were, of his memories to be recovered. Since he was a lacking wizard with a lacking wand, however, he overpowered the spell and wiped his mind clean. What has happened to _you_ however, despite your being a lacking wizard, is that your memories have been suppressed and written over by a much more skilled wizard, which leaves traces beneath the false memories that the mental restoration potion can pull forth to the surface," he explained with only the slightest bit of a drawl to his voice.

Frowning slightly as he processed that information, Harry opened his mouth to ask a question, only for something to flicker at the corner of his vision, making him glance over at it, not seeing Snape's wand snap up until-

" _Legilimens_ ".

" _It's a mirror Harry," Dumbledore said slowly, "I hardly think that a mirror is an expert when it comes to the nutritional needs of an eleven year old boy. I assure you, as the one who chooses the menus himself, that what you eat every day is healthy for you"._

 _Pausing to take in this knowledge, Harry tilted his head slowly, "Does this mean I should ask you if we could have chocolate cake for dinner tomorrow?"_

" _Consider it done," the Headmaster said with a chuckle, Harry beaming at the man before turning back to watch his reflection for a moment. "But the Mirror? Do you understand its purpose yet?" he pressed slowly._

 _Stopping again to think, Harry tore his eyes away from his grinning reflection and stared down at the ground, deep in thought as he ran over what the Professor had just said about the Mirror. "It… it shows us whatever will make us happy?" he asked hesitantly, a little unsure as to how what he saw would make him happy… although his reflection definitely_ looked _happy as he threw an arm around the shoulders of the man sitting beside him, telling what looked to him like a dirty joke that had them both tilting their heads back and laughing._

" _Yes, and no," Dumbledore agreed. "It shows us nothing less than the deepest most desperate desire of our heart. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you, your mother and father hugging you as you so wish to experience. Young mister Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, as the best of them all. However… this mirror will give you neither knowledge nor truth," the Headmaster warned, "Greater men than ourselves have wasted away in front of it, entranced by what they see and driven mad by it. One can never know if what they see is real or even possible, after all"._

" _I don't see my family, Sir," Harry corrected slowly, making the Headmaster pause and frown at him._

" _You do not?" Dumbledore asked curiously, "What is it that you see then?"_

" _I see me," Harry confessed, turning back to the mirror as a small smile graced his face at his reflection's wink. "I'm older, but I'm still young. I'm sitting on a throne, in a huge cave, and there are a lot of smaller thrones surrounding it, all of them around this huge table," he explained absently. "I'm sitting in the big throne, and I think I'm wearing leather pants," he added with a scrunched up face, "I'm wearing one of those biker vest things too, and there's this black tattoo going across my eyes… like a raccoon"._

" _What else?" Dumbledore pressed, his voice strange, not that Harry noticed as he kept staring at the mirror._

" _There's black smoke everywhere?" Harry continued with a shrug, "It all looks so dark… but we're happy. We're all laughing and talking as we eat"._

" _What about you?" the Headmaster asked as Harry heard him walking across the room to stand behind him, "What are doing?"_

 _Instead of answering straight away, Harry watched as the man from before ruffled his reflection's hair, the older Harry saying something to him, his mouth moving clearly to say the word 'Uncle'. His reflection stood suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to him as he raised a hand, a puff of black smoke preceding the appearance of a goblet in it, his older self speaking loudly as he looked around the table._

 _Reaching out himself, Harry tilted his hand palm up and concentrated, a black puff of smoke revealing a smaller hand-held mirror that had appeared out of nowhere, just like the goblet in the Mirror of Erised. "I'm giving a toast," he said softly, looking down into the mirror in his hands which reflected his older face looking back at him, "To family"._

 _Tilting the mirror back so he could see Dumbledore over his shoulder, Harry asked "How did I do that? I saw my reflection do it, and I just knew that I could too. What kind of magic is it?"_

" _It doesn't matter, Harry," Dumbledore said simply, "You won't be able to do it again"._

 _Angling the mirror down on instinct, Harry barely had time to recognise that Dumbledore's wand was aiming at him, before a flash of white light ended the memory sharply._

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

 ** _Based off DZ2's "Clear the Mind" challenge, which can be found in a link on my profile._**

 ** _I do not own Harry Potter, Charmed or any of the affiliated characters/worlds. The only thing I do own, will be reveal in around half a dozen chapters or so, so be patient._**


	2. Backlash

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

"Harry? Harry!"

Ignoring Hermione's voice, Harry continued staggering through the common room, heading straight towards the stairs to his dormitory, his raised hand keeping the blood leaking from his nose at bay.

"It's cool, Hermione," he heard Ron saying loudly, "I'll go check on him".

Biting back a growl at the red-head's voice, Harry shoved his free hand into his robes, drawing his wand and flicking it behind him as he moved. A smirk flashing across his faces as Ron let out a yelp upon walking into the invisible barrier he'd conjured; he continued up the stairs and opened his door with an angry jab of his wand.

"Harry! Harry! Come on! Let me up!" Ron shouted up after him, Harry not hesitating to slam the door shut behind him with a violent wave of his hand, hurling locking charm after locking charm at the door just in case Ron got past his barrier spell.

Stumbling into the bathroom, he shot a glare at his pale reflection before pulling some toilet paper across the room with the same instinctive hand wave that had shut the door, tearing it up and beginning the long familiar process of plugging his nose with it. It'd been years since Harry had been forced to do this, not since the holidays before second year actually. Dudley and his little gang had avoided him like the plague after he discovered he was a wizard, so he'd been blessedly free of bloody noses. Now that he thought about it, the last time he'd gotten a bloody nose he'd been smacked in the face by Aunt Petunia with a frying pan… it'd been an accident too, and Petunia had freaked out until she was certain he wasn't properly 'hurt' before yelling at him and forcing him to clean up all his blood before Vernon or Dudley got home from the ice-cream parlour.

Turning the tap on, Harry – forgetting about the tissues in his nose – started splashing cold water on his face.

 _That had never happened!_

His Aunt hadn't even been _home_ that day. He'd been alone and locked in his bedroom, and then suddenly he was in the kitchen instead. Of course, since he'd been given neither breakfast nor dinner, the first thing Harry had done was make himself something to eat, taking care to use only the food he knew the Dursleys wouldn't miss. He'd done so well too, leaving no trace that he'd ever left his room, before being so stupid as to answer the doorbell when it rung. He'd gotten only a glimpse of a long white beard, before a flash of light jumped his memories to him doing his homework in his bedroom without any memory of the past half an hour – and no explanation for his bleeding nose.

Shaking his head as he splashed his face again, Harry looked up into the mirror, glaring at the teenager staring back at him, his mind automatically placing the image of the older him from the Mirror of Erised over it.

Why the hell was Dumbledore changing his memories? They were all so jumbled up in his head that he couldn't even _try_ find a pattern in them, not until what were apparently his _real_ memories settled in properly. Not even Snape had been of any help to him, after the first memory of the Headmaster obliviating him, the Potions Professor had stared at Harry silently for five minutes before ordering him out. Even now, Harry could see flashes of two memories flickering past his mind's eye, in one memory he and Hermione were arguing _Incindio_ versus _Glacius_ in a duel, and in the other he and Hermione were looking up the strange black-smoke appearing thing he'd done back in First Year.

Conjuration… it was conjuration… he just didn't know _how_ he knew.

Were these memories real? He couldn't tell up from down right now, let alone real memories from fake ones.

Had he really forgiven Ron after last year's betrayal? Or had he refused his apology, gotten into an argument with the red-head, and then ended up hexing the bastard?

And what about the dementors at the beginning of the year? Had _he_ cast the Patronus Charm on them? Or had he held them back with strange black smoke from his hands until Dumbledore showed up to cast it himself?

Groaning at the pressure throbbing right behind his eyes, Harry fought the urge to storm up to the Headmaster's office and start demanding answers. After so many years of doing it, that the old man wouldn't hesitate to just obliviate him again. And this time Harry wouldn't have Snape to help him out… and wasn't _that_ an odd thought, that _Snape_ had helped _him_ , despite the way that Harry's 'accidental magic' had almost brained him when they'd left the memory.

Closing his eyes so he no longer had to see his pale-faced reflection, Harry slowly lowered himself down so his head was resting in his arms, which were crossed across the sink with the water from the tap just missing his hair. By Merlin… what was he supposed to believe? Was he insane? Were they even _real_ memories? He'd just spent the last hour or so with _Snape_ of all people, and if anyone out there would try screw with Harry just for the fun of it, then why wouldn't it be Snape? The Professor took a sadistic pleasure out of messing with him, whether it was confiscating school books with no cause or it was accidentally vanishing the contents of Harry's cauldron whenever he got a potion right. Harry didn't doubt that the man was capable of implanting false memories, he'd admitted to it himself right before the lesson had started after all, so what was to say that he hadn't done this?

But no… he could tell that they were real, the same way that he knew with almost exact certainty that telekinesis and conjuration were only just the tip of the iceberg.

"Harry?"

Head snapping up as Hermione's voice echoed through the dormitory, Harry quickly fixed up his appearance, leaving the toilet paper in his nose as he heard his bushy-haired friend entering the room. "Harry? Are you in here?"

"Yeah! I'm, I'm in here!" he called over his shoulder, forcibly reminding himself that he needed to play it cool. Dumbledore had wiped his memories more times than he could remember (oh the irony of that statement), and the last thing Harry wanted was for the man to get suspicious and do it again. Pausing to splash the cold water over his face once more, he stiffened as he looked up to see Hermione watching him in the mirror with a concerned look. "Hey, you alright?" he asked slowly, fighting down the urge to take her down before she could do the same to him.

"Yeah… yeah I am," Hermione agreed weakly, standing in the doorway with a conflicted look before stepping forward and pulling a face as she looked around. "Although I _am_ standing in the boy's bathroom, and it kind of smells like feet in here," she added hesitantly.

"Actually that's 'Dragonfern Musk'," Harry corrected absently, "It's Seamus' cologne, he has a habit of spraying an entire room instead of just himself".

"Well then, Dragonfern Musk smells like feet," Hermione declared stubbornly, before shaking it off and hurrying towards Harry, taking his jaw in her hand and turning his head this way and that. "You've got bruises," she murmured slowly, gently tracing something with her fingers, the total opposite of when Snape had grabbed him, "And your nose… you weren't attacked on the way back were you?" she asked nervously.

"Huh? Oh no!" he blurted quickly, shaking his head, "Snape had to hold my head still while he was teaching me, and the nosebleed's because of 'several cerebral trauma' or something like that. It just started on the way up the staircase," he assured, speaking mostly the truth as he shot her a tired grin that was all real. "Trust me. If you could feel my headache, you'd have a nosebleed too," he added when Hermione just looked sceptical, "Occlumency isn't the easiest thing to learn".

Not that Snape had gotten around to teaching him anything…

Hermione stared at him for a moment before nodding, seemingly accepting his story before turning him around and pushing him against the sink. "Stay _right_ there," she ordered, turning and flitting out of the room, returning with a chair seconds later that she pushed him down into. "So, care to explain the barrier on the staircase? Or the locking charm on the door?" she asked innocently, summoning a wash cloth Harry didn't even know the boy's bathroom even had, which she wet and started daintily washing his face.

"The what?" Harry asked dumbly, deciding on the spot to pretend it was something like accidental magic caused by his pounding headache.

"Don't talk when I'm doing this please," Hermione instructed, swatting him gently on the shoulder before returning her attention to his nose. "And the barrier on the staircase? The rather powerful locking charm on the door? Do you expect me to believe they were there when you got there?"

"Barrier? What locking-"

"I'll ask again, Harry, don't talk when I'm working," Hermione interrupted quickly, shooting him an annoyed look as she smacked him for the second time. "If you didn't want to talk, you should know me well enough to know I wouldn't make you. Unless of course I thought that it was too important to leave unsaid," she corrected absently.

"But-"

"Harry! I will not ask you again," Hermione scolded, jabbing the wash cloth at him threateningly before pausing with a sheepish look on her face. "Oops… I must have been channelling my parents there, you know what dentists are like, question after question while their hands are your mouth," she said in way of apology.

"I've never been to a dentist," Harry said simply, cringing back in case Hermione swatted him again, instead finding himself the target of a shocked look.

"You have rather lovely teeth," Hermione murmured to herself, hand raising to cover her own mouth subconsciously.

"Hey! You have lovely teeth too," he insisted, wondering if this was perhaps the strangest conversation he'd ever had, even though he was a wizard at a school for magic and thus discussed turning random animals into teacups almost daily.

As Hermione had a dismissive noise, she drew her wand and flicked it at Harry's nose, making him flinch as the toilet paper was yanked out roughly. "Sorry," she apologised, before clearing her throat, "Now. Sit still. I've never cast this spell before, and one of the side effects of failed casting can be intense rashes and first-degree burns. _Episkey_!"

His nose letting out a loud crack before he could even think about running, Harry yelped and his hands shot up to protect his nose from Hermione's wand. "Did… did it work?" he asked slowly when he finally lowered his hands for a scowling Hermione, "Am I still pretty?"

"Your nose is fine, it worked," she assured him with a roll of her eyes. "Now. Either get into bed or bring your homework downstairs while I go get a headache relief potion for you," she ordered, standing up and smoothing her skirt down.

"I think I'll go to bed," Harry decided quickly. It'd give him time to think, to let everything settle as he went over his memories without wanting to punch Ron for all the things the red-head said, especially since Harry wasn't supposed to remember. "My head hurts, and I don't think I can concentrate on homework right now".

Hermione watched him silently for a moment, Harry imagining the struggle going on in her mind, before she nodded suddenly. "Okay," she said simply, leaning forward to brush his fringe away from his face, "I'll tell Ron to keep it down when he heads up. He's playing chess against Neville," she explained, "If you're still not feeling the best in the morning I'll go to Professor McGonagall and see if I can get you some classes off".

Smiling gratefully as his friend, Harry followed Hermione out of the bathroom, heading towards his bed as she went out the door. Quickly changing into his sleepwear, he climbed onto his bed and waited for a moment, before raising his hands to stare at them. "Alright then," he murmured to himself, as he thought back to how he conjured that mirror in First Year, "How did it work again?"

Flicking his hands, making all kinds of gestures as he focused on the idea of a mirror, Harry only succeeded in feeling like an idiot, having no idea exactly _how_ to trigger this 'power' of his. Quickly stopping when he heard Hermione returning, he smiled fondly at her when he recognised the second potion she held as dreamless sleep, something telling him he'd need it tonight.

"I brought you this as well," Hermione began, diving right into an explanation without giving him a chance to speak. "I figured that since Occlumency involved memories, you'd probably be having nightmares, Sirius mentioned it was a possibility considering what you've been through and personally I agree. You don't have to use it, but I thought you might like the option," she clarified, not having paused for a breath yet. "And don't worry, Madam Pomfrey isn't going to get mad at you for using my potions," she assured him, "I asked Mrs Weasley to buy these for me, so these aren't Hogwarts standard and she can't restrict them without valid reason, it's in the Rules and Regulation".

"Hermione," Harry said gently when his friend finally stopped to breathe, "Thank you".

The bushy-haired girl faltered, looking at him in confusion for a moment before nodding, letting out a slow sigh as she thrust the two potions out for him. "You're welcome," she whispered, smiling faintly at him, looking a little relieved he wasn't angry at her. "See you in the morning?"

"Hopefully," Harry agreed with a shrug, uncapping the pain relief potion and downing it in one go, grimacing at the taste. "Bottoms up," he muttered as he uncorked the dreamless sleep, shifting around until he was under the blankets before taking it. "Thank you," he added one more time as Hermione took the two vials, his best friend – or at least the girl he _hoped_ was his best friend and not a traitor – smiling softly at him as she fiddled with his hair again.

"You're welcome, Harry," Hermione said, her voice sounding like it was coming from far away as his vision blurred, feeling more than seeing her standing and heading towards the dormitory door as he shut his eyes and let the potion do its job.

* * *

" _I'm serious, Hermione, I didn't use a wand"._

 _At his claim, Hermione sighed, putting her book down and fixing him with an impatient look. "Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration states that whilst food can be transfigured or summoned, conjuring food is_ impossible _," she said sternly, "While I believe that you – of all people – are capable of wandless magic, I_ don't _believe that you are capable of ignoring Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration in that you wandlessly conjured an apple," at this Hermione paused to sniff indignantly. "Besides, conjuration is N.E.W.T level magic," she added as she picked her book up again, "I find it improbable that your first act of wandless magic would be conjuration. It's more likely you summoned or transfigured it"._

" _What's the difference between summoning and conjuration?" Harry asked hesitantly, hoping the answer wouldn't come in lecture form._

" _Conjuration is the art of transfiguring items and beings from thin air," Hermione said simply, glancing over her book at him, "Summoning is merely using some form of summoning charm to move the items or beings from one place to another. The difference being conjuration creates it while summoning takes what's already there"._

" _But..."_

" _No buts, Harry," she corrected gently, setting her book down, "If you want to look up information on wandless magic, I'll be happy to help. But I won't think you conjured an apple without sufficient evidence"._

" _If conjuration can create_ beings _from air, why can't it create an apple?" Harry asked stubbornly, crossing his arms across his chest. "I may not have paid much attention in science, but an apple is part of a plant and plants are alive," at this, he promptly stuck his tongue out at the girl, who blinked at him like a confused owl._

" _Because… shut up," Hermione countered stiffly, staring at him for a moment longer before standing up and heading into the shelves._

 _Rolling his eyes, Harry raised his hands and looked around, making sure he was alone before concentrating on the feeling he'd felt earlier. Casting his mind about, it was only when it got distracted by a flash of light coming from the shelves that something happened, a puff of black smoke appearing in his hands and leaving a shiny red apple in his palms._

" _Does it count as conjuration if there's smoke involved?" Harry asked as footsteps sounded, "If so, then I win," he said childishly as he looked up and froze. "Oh! Professor! Look at what I did," he exclaimed, holding his hands out proudly to present the apple, "Can you do things like this too?"_

 _The Headmaster just smiled at him sadly, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not, Harry, that is beyond even my capabilities," he disagreed as Harry looked down at the apple in his hands._

" _Do you think it's edible?" Harry asked curiously, "If so then HEY!" he blurted when it vanished, "Where did it go?"_

 _A flash of white light stopped him from looking up, and instead he blinked slowly at his empty hands. "So you think I should wait until I'm older before trying wandless magic, Sir?" he questioned sadly as he glanced up at the Headmaster._

" _Indeed, Harry," Dumbledore agreed, waving his hand over the candles hovering above the table and turning them off. "It does take a degree of discipline you unfortunately lack at your age, perhaps after your N.E.W.T?"_

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	3. Voices

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

Time passed slowly for Harry Potter since the recovery of his memories.

They were still slowly sorting themselves into place, showing him the difference between what he had remembered and what had really happened. What they meant, however, was still something he couldn't piece together. Much like his personality… was it possible for someone's personality to be altered by magic? Because Harry had been physically biting his tongue to prevent himself from saying some of the comments that came to mind. After all, knowing that however much she deserved it, telling Professor Umbridge to 'kindly remove the stick from your arse so I can beat you to death with it' would only end in him getting detention.

At first he'd thought that all the hidden memories had to do with the strange powers he seemed to have locked away somewhere deep inside. Telekinesis, teleportation, conjuration. He'd done all three before, and even though he only currently had access to telekinesis, he knew that he'd gain the others and more back, in time at least. But then he woken one night covered in sweat, remembering the way Dumbledore had obliviated him to remove the memories of his asking for a pass to the Restricted Section. What was so important about that that the Headmaster would erase his memories of it? All he'd done was ask Professor McGonagall for a pass so he could get a book on dementors out, something his Head of House had only been too happy to help him with. But instead, all he got was obliviated as Dumbledore took the book away and returned it to the shelf, muttering something about burning it if he could get away with it.

He didn't see the point in risking wiping someone's memories over that, he'd asked Madam Pince about it and discovered that the book in question – ' _Dark Beings Most Foul_ ' – only had a very small chapter on dementors and the spell used to counter them. If the Headmaster didn't want him to learn the Patronus Charm, then why only go after the pass and not Professor Lupin? He didn't seem to hesitate to go after McGonagall or Pince after all, since neither of them seemed any the wiser about his own obliviation. If anything, it only made Harry want to steal the book and read it anyway, since there _had_ to be something in it that Dumbledore didn't want him getting his hands on.

And whether or not he could trust his friends was something else he couldn't understand. He'd seen an equal amount of memories where Hermione or Ron were obliviated as well, so he didn't really know whether he could trust them or not, especially since sometimes one or the other had betrayed him in one memory and then had been betrayed in another.

" _I'm sorry Harry. But I was right, there is no way that this is normal. I_ had _to tell Professor Dumbledore, who knows what would have happened if I hadn't?"_

 _Hermione sent him a nervous look, seemingly terrified that he would start screaming or shouting. "You understand right? First you start hearing voices, then you start speaking another language? Parseltongue was bad enough, but this one? This one actually feels evil," she defended, "I'm sorry"._

" _As am I," Dumbledore said, his wand rising as a flash of white light engulfed Hermione's head upon the word "Obliviate"._

And unfortunately, as much as he wished it would, the world didn't stop so he could process what had happened to him. He was stuck trying to juggle Umbridge, his O.W.L preparation, and keeping the return of his memories a secret. Yet everything else continued on as usual, as if he weren't the centre of the universe, a fact that shocked him after the way the previous four years at Hogwarts had basically revolved around him. His first friend had been put on _probation_ by the pink toad, and Harry felt rather guilty over the fact that he didn't care, not when he remembered that Hagrid was responsible for his obliviation over Voldemort's attack on the unicorn. Then there was the murder of an Unspeakable that Harry'd seen in St. Mungo's during the holidays, Harry didn't feel all too guilty over that as it wasn't anything to do with him, but he still mourned the death of an innocent – and wondered what he'd known that had gotten him killed.

But the worst thing that happened by far was the escape of ten of Voldemort's Death Eaters from Azkaban, something that was blamed on Sirius by the pathetic excuse for a Minister. Thankfully Harry had no bad memories coming back about Sirius, meaning he still had at least one person he could trust, but that didn't make the situation any better. In between the furious rants that had him silencing the boy's bathroom so he could scream insults and threats without being overheard, Harry'd realised something. If they'd managed to get out once, then what would happen if they were caught again? He didn't doubt they would be sent straight back to Azkaban, where they would, of course, break right out again.

Merlin forbid the Ministry ever do something right.

He _did_ feel sorry for Neville though, the poor boy didn't deserve the jeering and staring sent his way by the rest of the students.

But anyway… back to the book.

Harry was currently in the library, looking up some spells for the DA to learn in their next meeting. Hermione was sitting opposite him and helping him search, while Ron had skived off early to get some lunch before Quidditch practice.

"Huh… this spell sounds like a muggle flash-bang," Hermione was saying quietly, "It creates a sudden flash of light that matches the 'radiance of a thousand suns'. Sounds like it'd blind your opponent for a couple of seconds. Could be a good distraction in a fight," she explained.

"Add it to the list," Harry said in agreement, staring at the page before him blankly as he tried to resist the urge to look over at Umbridge, whom Hermione had noticed lurking in the shelves over an hour ago. (Oh Merlin he wanted to curse her so badly… she kept glaring at them darkly and he just _knew_ she was waiting for him to put one toe out of line so she'd have an excuse for giving him detention). "Oh wait, is it a charm or is it transfiguration?" he asked quickly, glancing over his book at her, "I wanted to get some more transfiguration-based magic".

As Hermione hummed her agreement, Harry watched Umbridge peering around the corner of the shelf, Hermione's wand flicking silently and causing the words on the list to ripple slightly before being replaced with another completely different list. Smug in the knowledge that the toad wouldn't find whatever it was she was looking for, Harry stretched out his arms, wishing for just a second that he could be out in the warm afternoon sun with the rest of his Quidditch team. It'd been too long since he'd flown; he was getting twitchy just thinking about it.

" _Harry…"_

Freezing and looking around slowly, his eyes roamed every inch of the library carefully, wondering if he'd just imagined the voice or if it were someone actually talking about him. It wouldn't be the first time, his name was on everyone's lips since the escape from Azkaban, as if they were finally pulling their heads from their asses and beginning to wonder if he'd been telling the truth. (As if he had a reason to lie).

" _Harry…"_

Nope… nope… he had _not_ imagined that.

" _My son…"_

Okay. _Now_ he was feeling a little creeped out. He couldn't see anyone else in the library who could be speaking to him, let alone someone who would be calling him 'his son'. The only other people he could see in the library were Umbridge; who was pretending to read a book two shelves down, Susan Bones and her friend; who were sitting silently writing essays, and Hermione; who had her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she concentrated on reading the textbook on offensive charms (which they'd checked. As a 'reference book' they were unable to be confiscated for being non-curriculum. Just in case Umbridge tried something).

" _Welcome back…_ "

As the voice faded away into nothing, Harry just knew – he wasn't sure how he did – but he just knew that he'd be hearing it again, something about it just boded badly for him. He couldn't even describe it properly, not even to himself, but he also knew that he'd heard it before. At least the basilisk had sounded violent and angry; this voice sounded… well it sounded pleased for some reason. Almost unbidden memory from second year flashed through his mind, when Dumbledore turned on Hermione just as quickly as she'd turned on Harry, cementing the knowledge that he could never tell Hermione about the voice without repercussions until he'd ensured her loyalty. Pushing that thought away as it made his chest ache, he instead focused his attention on Hermione, easily able to separate the girl who'd been obliviated from the girl sitting opposite him.

"I'm going to go check to see what other books I can find," he decided, slowly climbing to his feet and striding off into the shelves, feeling more than hearing Umbridge following him.

Crap… he needed to lose the escort before he could try anything.

After zigzagging across the library, Harry felt the limited patience he had regarding Umbridge draining rapidly, leading him to round a corner and start backtracking along the other side of the shelf. He had a _lot_ of anger he wanted to take out on Umbridge, mostly for torturing him and other innocent students, but even Ron would know that now wasn't the best time. His wand materialising in his hand as he raised it and took aim, waiting for Umbridge to walk past, he smirked as a muffled flash of red filled the air and Umbridge toppled over like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Feeling the timer instantly beginning to tick, Harry darted over to the gate to the Restricted Section of the library and looked around cautiously. Concentrating on the gate, he raised a hand and placed it against the lock, smirking to himself as he heard the faint _click_ of the door unlocking with only a little mental prodding. He couldn't use _magic_ on the door without setting off an alarm, but telekinesis wasn't magic… or well it didn't set off the alarm at least. Glancing around innocently, Harry ensured that there weren't any students around before quickly slipping into the Restricted Section. After a pause during which he ensured he hadn't accidentally tripped another alarm, he started down the shelves looking for the ones belonging to the letter 'D', moving on silent feet as he padded down the corridors until a grin split his face as he lucked upon the very book he was searching for.

Moving quickly, he gently eased ' _Dark Beings Most Foul_ ' from its shelf, tucking it under his arm as he felt his curiosity getting the best of him. Beginning to peer around at some of the other titles on the shelves around him, Harry reminded himself that it wasn't like he was _looking_ for books on dark magic or anything, he was just curious about what was so restricted.

Whoa…

Some of these books looked absolutely disgusting… although he wasn't sure about why the ' _The Dateless Wizard's Guide to Anatomically Correct Witches_ ' was in the Restricted Sect- _and it was a porn magazine –_ why did Hogwarts have a bloody porn magazine? _AND WHY DID IT MOVE LIKE NORMAL PICTURES?_

Promising to obliviate _himself_ to remove what he'd just seen, the raven-haired wizard shuddered, avoiding looking at that entire shelf as he turned his attention to the one opposite, curiously glancing over a book called ' _The Decree of Low Magical Standards_ ' in peeling gold letters before pausing at the sight of the book titled ' _Dargon the Rather Quick's Guide to Minor Dark Magicks and the Appropriate Mostly Harmless Counter Curses and Spells_ '.

Staring at the book for a moment, Harry couldn't stop himself from snorting at the length of the name, before glancing around again at the empty Restricted Section as he tugged that book from its shelf as well. What better way was there to teach the DA how to fight Dark Wizards, than to teach them the 'appropriate mostly harmless counter curses and spells'? Even Hermione would be hard pressed to find flaw with his reasoning. Looking down at the two books and nodding simply, considering his mission complete, Harry went to put the books in his bag before freezing as he suddenly remembered that he _didn't have it_.

How the hell was he supposed to get the two _stolen_ books from the library to his dormitory without being caught?

Moving without thinking about it, Harry was being engulfed in a whirlwind of black smoke – smoke similar to how he'd conjured the mirror back in first year – before reappearing in his room seconds later. Oh… okay then… he just teleported out.

That would work.

Quickly shoving the books under his mattress (Wizards never looked somewhere so 'stupid', not when young magicals used glamour charms or transfigured the item they wanted to hide), Harry smoothed his blankets back down to hide it, before cracking his neck and returning to the Restricted Section with a roll of his shoulders and a whirlwind of smoke – a little surprised at how _un_ surprised he was by the teleportation.

Slipping back into the normal part of the library, Harry stepped over the unconscious form of Professor Umbridge without blinking, a smirk tugging at his lips at the moustache and goatee drawn on her face by another uncaring student as he returned to Hermione's table.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he sat, finally noticing how frazzled his friend looked.

"Huh? What? Of course I am," Hermione dismissed, waving her hand lazily at him before quickly burying her nose back into the book she was reading. "Didn't you find a book?"

"Really? You don't look it," Harry countered, faltering for a moment as his friend fixed him with a death glare. "I just mean you look tired," he defended, "And your hair looks a little limp".

"Well," Hermione began, sounding a little uncomfortable in his opinion, "I've got it all under control. I'm supposed to look like this," she tried, making his eyebrows shoot up. "Alright fine," she caved after a moment or two longer of staring, "I've been giving you my dreamless sleep," she confessed, "Now _I'm_ having trouble sleeping".

Oh… that made sense. Now that he was looking for them, he could see the faint bags under her eyes, almost entirely hidden by make-up. She'd been moving slower too, not by much, but when compared to Harry and his Quidditch reflexes it was definitely noticeable.

"Then stop giving me your dreamless sleep," Harry decided, the solution to the problem sounding rather simple. "It's not like I need it, I'm still dreaming of the corridor after all, so it's clearly not working".

"But I don't want you to have to relive everything after Professor Snape's lessons," Hermione argued, "And I can live without it".

"So can I," Harry countered, "Besides, I haven't had a lesson with Snape since that first one and it's been almost two weeks now. My headaches stopped days ago, Hermione, and I think I can handle a bad dream".

"Fine," Hermione sighed out, gratitude flashing through her brown eyes as they flicked up to meet his, "If you insist".

"I do".

Rolling her eyes, Hermione returned to her book once more, leaving Harry staring at the top of her head for a moment before he sagged down a bit in his chair. "Go to bed, Hermione," he ordered gently, making her head snap up so she could stare at him in horror, "You're exhausted. This can wait for us to be aware and awake".

"But if I go to sleep now I'll ruin my entire sleep schedule," Hermione refused, making him raise a single eyebrow expectantly. "But I guess it _is_ Saturday," she realised slowly, "I'll have tomorrow to fix it up again".

"Exactly," Harry said, sending her his best charming grin.

"Oh stop that," Hermione sniffed as she started packing her things up, "You look like you're going to try cheat me out of something. My Uncle had that same smile and _he_ was arrested for fraud".

"How do you know that's not what I was going for?" Harry countered, making Hermione narrow her eyes at him. "Not that I even know what fraud is," he confessed, "But it can't be that bad if he was only arrested for it, I mean they executed Hitler without a trial".

"No they didn't," came Hermione's slow response, the girl looking at him in horror.

"Huh… I should really catch up on my Muggle history," Harry murmured to himself with a frown before shrugging it off casually, "That's what I get for reading Dudley's history essay I guess".

"You were clearly asking for it," Hermione deadpanned, the girl throwing her bag over her shoulder. "Don't forget to put these books back on Madam Pince's trolley before you leave. And issue out this book," she added, shoving the book on offensive charms towards him.

"As you command," Harry drawled as he leaned back in his chair and rolled his shoulders, watching Hermione go before glancing at his barely working watch. Giving his friend a five minute head start, Harry started packing up as well, making sure he slipped the list into the bottom of his bag before gathering up armfuls of their books and carting them over to the librarian's trolley.

He could just say he hadn't found any other spells that really stood out to him if Hermione asked, but for now, Harry wanted to pay the Room of Requirement a visit.

It was time to test the limits of what he could do with these powers of his.

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	4. Betrayal

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

Come Sunday night, Harry was desperately fighting the desire to claim exhaustion and head up to bed, knowing his 'friends' would be suspicious at the thought of him going to be at only eight at night.

Painfully aware of the stolen books hidden beneath his mattress, Harry knew his only choice was to remain downstairs until the other boys went to bed so he could read it in peace.

"Go get the book, Harry," Hermione's voice said suddenly, cutting through his thoughts and making his head snap around to stare at her in horror. "Harry?" she asked hesitantly, her face falling rapidly, "Please tell me you didn't forget the offensive charms textbook in the library".

Oh thank Merlin…

"No, no. It's in my trunk," he assured her, quickly climbing to his feet and heading towards his dorm, taking two steps at a time as he rushed upstairs. This was a good idea actually, he needed something to take his mind off the book in his trunk. And what better way than to plan out the next couple of DA meetings? The DA was always something he found he enjoyed, the entire process of teaching others distracted him from his own problems, as selfish as it sounded. Besides, it was probably for the best that they go over their lesson plan for that night.

Collecting the book for the DA, Harry also grabbed the lists from his bag, both the one of charms and transfigurations he'd be teaching the others and the one of more combat-orientated spells he'd decided on. He was, of course, going to leave them all up to Hermione to give the final decision. His friend tending to know what the others were capable of better than him, what with his habit of being able to pull off 'impossible' spells like the Patronus. Freezing as an idea hit him, Harry shoved everything back into his bag including Dargon the Rather Quick's guide, grabbing his invisibility cloak and his father's Map.

Invisibly sneaking downstairs, he leaned towards Hermione's ear and whispered "Room of Requirement. Now," making his friend jump slightly, the girl showing remarkable control as she only flicked her hair back in a barely noticeable nod.

"Ron. Let's go on patrol," Hermione blurted, beginning to pack up her things.

"What? We're not on patrol till tomorrow!" Ron argued with a frown, hunching over his chess board defensively.

"We're going to the Room," Hermione whispered at him quietly, "To practice some of the spells?"

"Oh… er… I'm sick?" Ron lied bluntly, looking around uncomfortably, sending more than one glance towards the staircase that Harry was supposed to be up. "I'll see you guys there for the DA meeting".

Not offended by his friend lying to get out of doing work – Harry was far too used to that to take it personally – he just rolled his eyes and tapped Hermione on the elbow, hoping she got the hint and just dropped it. It wasn't like Ron did much to help the DA anyway, the red-haired member of the Trio was mainly just used as their stunt-man, the boy soaking up the attention he got from girls like Lavender who thought he was 'so brave'. To be fair though… it wasn't like Harry did much to help the DA either, he was the figurehead while Hermione ran everything herself.

"You know, Ronald," Hermione hissed as she shoved herself out of her armchair, "If you didn't want to come, you could have just _said_ so".

Sighing quietly as he followed Hermione out of the common room, he kept one eye on the Marauder's Map, guiding her around a patrolling Umbridge as they crossed the castle. "I don't know how you put up with him," Hermione exclaimed the moment the Room of Requirement's door slammed shut behind them and melted away into the wall. "He can be such a child sometimes! How hard can it be for him to act his age?"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, ignoring the ill feeling in his stomach as he defended the red-head, knowing that it wasn't Ron that she was angry at. "He's fifteen. He _is_ acting his age".

"You don't act like that," Hermione countered instantly.

"I've almost died so many times I've lost count," Harry corrected, "And you're… well, you. Ron doesn't have that motivation".

Hermione stared at him for a moment before scoffing. "I hate people our age," she declared bluntly, turning her back on him and striding over to where the Room of Requirement had set up the target dummies for them.

"I'm pretty sure I just hate people," Harry muttered under his breath as he made to follow. It wasn't like he had any luck with adults, after all, at least the people his age didn't actively try to kill him.

"Book," Hermione ordered, her tone of voice hinting to Harry that perhaps he should just keep his mouth shut and obey her. As he hurried to hand it over, he watched as she flicked through it, before settling on a page and reading it over just once. Stepping back as his friend moved over to stand before a dummy, Hermione cleared her throat once before raising her wand.

" _Incussus_ ".

"Ow," Harry deadpanned as he blinked at the smoking crater in the dummy's chest, the very metal it was made of bent inwards at the sheer force Hermione had conjured up. "Remind me not to piss you off," he mumbled to himself as his friend didn't hesitate to hurl a second ' _Incussus_ ' at the dummy.

"Unless you've turned into an Umbridge supporter, I think you're safe," Hermione spat, casting the spell a final time before setting her wand down on the table and taking a couple of deep breaths.

"You'd use that spell on Umbridge?"

"She'd deserve it," Hermione said darkly, glaring in the direction of the still smoking dummy. " _Torturing_ students. Putting Madam Pince on suspension. The way she's egging you on _just_ so she can keep _torturing_ you!" Flinching back as Hermione snatched her wand up and cursed the dummy again, he cautiously moved forward to take the wand from her hand, watching her breathing deeply as he set it down behind him. "Sorry," she apologised weakly, stepping forward to drop her forehead onto his shoulder, the two of them standing there in the almost-hug for longer than either cared to count. "She just makes me so _mad_ ," Hermione explained faintly, "She works for the Ministry. And the Ministry are supposed to be the good guys here! I mean I know they're not the nicest, and that they're completely and utterly _idiotic_ , but they're still supposed to be on our side".

"Hermione".

"And what does that make us?" she continued, stepping away from Harry and beginning to pace. "We know the truth. But so what? We're breaking the law here Harry!" she shouted, hands coming up to tug on her hair. "And I don't regret doing it. It _has_ to be done, because as Saint Augustine of Hippo said, 'An unjust law is no law at all'. But does that make us the bad guys? I don't know if I can be one of the bad guys, Harry," she stressed.

"Hermione! You're not a bad guy," he assured her slowly, stepping forward again to place his hands on her shoulders. "Were the Rebel Alliance bad guys for going against the Galactic Empire?" he asked pointedly, hoping that the brief parts of the Star Wars films he'd seen hadn't led him astray, "The Ministry isn't just idiotic, it's corrupt. Besides, it's not like we're rebelling against the Ministry, we're just rebelling against Umbridge".

"I guess that's true," Hermione mused thoughtfully, chewing her lip as she refused to meet his eyes, "Sometimes doing what's right isn't easy".

"Exactly. And for as long as Umbridge runs this school – and don't look at me like that, we both know she does – then, I," he began, "Harry James Potter do solemnly swear that I aim to misbehave".

Almost instantly Hermione let out a snort, "I can totally imagine you dressed as Malcolm Reynolds," she giggled to herself. "He's the Captain of a spaceship," she explained when Harry blinked at her in confusion, "He's kind of a criminal, but he always does the right thing. Like Robin Hood, but in space. In the film he kind of rebels against the entire Alliance because they killed a bunch of people and tried to hide it, but he's not trying to overthrow them or anything, he's just trying to right what was wronged. He's also really _really_ hot," Hermione confessed with a flush.

"Ew," Harry deadpanned, making Hermione punch his shoulder gently, stepping away as she wiped at her eyes.

"Your turn," Hermione declared, lifting her chin and smiling at him faintly. "You helped me with my problems, so I'm going to help you with yours".

Smiling fondly at his friend, Harry instead reached out to pull the book closer to him, scanning over the description for the spell Hermione had just cast. "I don't have problems," he said simply as she opened her mouth, "Well, I don't have problems that aren't being dealt with," he corrected as Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're not sleeping," his bushy-haired friend argued, "I know that sounds hypocritical coming from me, but you were taking dreamless sleep and it wasn't working".

" _Incussus_ ," Harry hissed, jabbing his wand at the second dummy, a spark cracking at the tip of his wand before the dummy's face caved in under the force of the spell. "I'm sleeping fine," he lied dismissively, taking aim and trying the spell again, feeling as if it wasn't working properly. "I'm just… dreaming of the door still," he admitted, not mentioning the memories that were constantly waking him up in the middle of the night.

"Right. Because that explains why you're avoiding Ron and I," Hermione countered simply, "Try flicking the tip of your wand a bit more when you finish the jab," she added. "Huh… that's better," she approved as this time his spell caused more of a flash than a spark. "And don't lie to me, you spent 'all afternoon' in the library yesterday? You didn't even show up to dinner!"

"How did you find out about that?" Harry grumbled guiltily, sending the 'Concussion Hex' at the dummy again, "You were asleep".

"Professor McGonagall mentioned it at breakfast, which you skipped as well," Hermione explained, "So? Where were you?"

" _Incussus_ ".

"Harry".

" _Incussus_ ".

" _Harry_ ".

" _Incussus_ ".

Hermione sighed as the dummy shattered under his spell, making him pause for a moment to glance at her from the corner of his eye, before a flick of his wand had another dummy rolling forward to become his new target.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just tell Hermione that he'd been trying to sort out his memories lately, that he'd snuck off to the Room of Requirement that morning to continue trying to practice his teleportation. (He could do it if he wasn't thinking about it, but it was giving him trouble when he tried to force it). Hell, he was pretty sure the answer of 'I was trying to see how many chairs I could lift with my mind' wouldn't be the one she was looking for, and would probably only annoy her if he tried it, no matter _how_ true it was.

He didn't even know if he could trust her, he remembered telling her about the voice the first time he heard it (he was certain that it was the same voice he'd heard in the library) and she'd gone running to Dumbledore. And he wanted to trust her, he really _really_ wanted to trust her. But could he? If he told her and she went running straight back to Dumbledore, then what would he do? Aside from doing everything with one eye watching his back to keep himself safe – he felt so _alive_ when using his powers, he couldn't let himself be put back to sleep again…

He couldn't…

"If you don't want to tell me that's fine," Hermione said quietly, making him stop casting so her voice could echo through the room, "But you could at least _say_ that you don't want to ta-" "Can I trust you?" "-about- What?"

"Can I trust you?" Harry repeated slowly, refusing to look away from the Death Eater mask on the target dummy's face.

"Of course you can," Hermione began, "You know you can".

"Can I trust you," Harry asked again as a flashback to second year shot through his mind

"Of course you can! You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you!"

 _Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she aimed her wand at him, "I can't let you do that Harry," she apologised, "That's dark magic, I- I have to report you"._

" _It's_ not _dark," he insisted slowly, "I swear Hermione"._

" _I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, shaking her head nervously, "But you hurt Ron, and… and I just have to make sure. You were never this mean before"._

" _I'm not being mean," Harry argued with a frown, stepping back quickly when Hermione's wand tip glowed, "How is it mean that I want more than a simple apology from him? He turned his back on me, he's lied and spread rumours as if we were never friends. I'm not dark for wanting proof he's sorry"._

" _No," Hermione agreed weakly, "But that doesn't give you the right to_ strangle him with your mind! _" she exclaimed desperately._

" _He deserved it," Harry said simply, "And it's not like I hurt him permanently or anything"._

" _No. Harry. Just… just no"._

Sighing, Harry finally turned to face Hermione, tilting his head slowly as he made sure to hold his wand in a non-threatening way. "You already have," he admitted before he could stop himself, confusion flashing across her face, "I need you to trust me Hermione. And if you can't trust me more than Dumbledore..."

"You think I'd tell Dumbledore?" she blurted, blinking at him with wide eyes, "And you think I don't trust you? You're… you're my best friend," she explained stiffly, looking more hurt than Harry'd ever seen her before.

"My parents were killed by _their_ best friend".

Almost instantly Harry knew he'd made a mistake, Hermione's face closing off entirely at the horrible comparison, the bushy-haired Witch straightening her back and shoulders as she spun on her heel to turn her back on him. "If that's the case, Harry, then I think I'll be going now," she said slowly, the tears in her voice making Harry flinch, "I wouldn't want to bring back bad memories".

"Hermione wait!"

The slamming of the door answered him, Harry alone in the room with his hand outstretched as if to stop the echo of his friend from leaving him to. "I didn't mean it," he exhaled slowly, his hand curling into a fist as he stared dumbly at the door, unable to deny the burning guilt settling in his stomach, "Not like that".

Great…

Just great…

Wasn't his life just perfect? So abso- _fucking_ -lutely perfect!

First Voldemort returns. Then the Ministry and Umbridge practically declare war against him, going as far as to torture him. Half the school hates him, his own dorm-mates were afraid of him. Then he finds out most of his life is a lie put in place by Dumbledore. And as the cherry on top, he doesn't even have Hermione anymore!

'Alone on a deserted island' was an understatement for how alone he felt in that very instant, a hollow chuckle escaping his lips as he realised that at least it had been himself that had chased off Hermione, she'd not turned on him on her own accord. It had been _him_ that had turned on _her_ instead. It was almost poetic… he wasn't sure how but it definitely felt like it.

And now he had no-one.

Turning sharply as pure rage washed through him – directed entirely at himself – Harry lashed out, forgoing his wand entirely as he unleashed a blast of sheer _black_ at the dummy before him, vaporising the metal being as easily as if it were made of butter.

Hermione was right, he realised as he watched the top half of the dummy slowly slide off the rest of the torso to hit the ground, he _was_ meaner with all these powers of his. Raising his hand and watching as a familiar black smoke slowly 'leaked' out from beneath his skin, Harry let out a dry snort, turning his hand this way and that to watch how the smoke reacted.

If only he could turn back time and stop Snape from finding the repressed memories. He could prevent himself from ever unlocking his 'gift', he'd be happy with Ron and Hermione, never the wiser.

Harry snorted again.

He was such a terrible liar.

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	5. Ronald

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

Ron was glaring at him…

Harry wasn't an idiot, he knew _why_ Ron was glaring at him. But what he didn't understand is what right _Ron_ of all people had to glare at him. Of who the people who _did_ have that right, Mr Ron 'Insult Hermione Five Times by Lunch' Weasley was _not_ one of them.

He realised what he'd said was stupid, and he fully planned on apologising and worming his way back into Hermione's good graces once more. But that didn't mean he deserved to be glared at by the _Comic Relief_ of all people, Ron had said things to her that made Harry look like a bloody _saint_ in comparison.

Okay, no he hadn't… Harry was still a bastard. But Ron was worse!

As he finished lacing up his shoes, Harry grabbed his wand and headed out of his dorm room before Ron could say what was obviously on the tip of his tongue. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the red-head today, not after spending half the night tossing and turning with guilt, and the other half walking towards a familiar door that constantly moved away from him. If Ron tried to confront him he felt like something would break, most likely his patience, and then his temper and then Ron's nose.

He wasn't in a good mood.

At least he had a good reason though, he'd spent the rest of yesterday trying to replicate the black-smoke-shadow thing he'd done. By the time the DA meeting rolled around, he'd only managed to give himself another nosebleed, and _then_ the only person who showed up to the DA meeting was Colin Creevey who had been sent with the apologies of the rest of the DA. It'd taken less than half a day for the rest of the DA to find out what he'd said to Hermione, and it'd taken even less than that for them to all decide that they were all going to 'forget' that they had a meeting that night.

Not that he blamed them, he could barely stand being in the same room as himself last night.

Doing his best to ignore the glares being sent his way – by both the Ministry supporters and Hermione's supporters – he instead looked around for the girl herself, hoping to try find her before breakfast. It'd be so much easier to explain himself if they weren't having to run to classes in fear of facing Umbridge's smirking detention-giving face. It was also kind of a necessary thing for them to be alone, her reaction yesterday had been all the proof he needed to give her a chance with the truth. He wasn't going to tell her everything, Merlin no, but maybe he could just start small and start working his way up.

But where _could_ he start? Should he tell her about the telekinesis? Or should he confess the reason behind his mistrust, that he'd been obliviated because of it?

Barely noticing the glares any more as he realised Hermione wasn't there, Harry turned to head back up the stairs, only to freeze as he came face to face with Ron. The two boys stared at each other for a moment, Ron's anger clear on his reddening face, as Harry's burnt more subtly deep in his chest. For a moment he almost _wanted_ Ron to lash out at him, so he could unleash his anger on the idiotic boy, but something told him that probably killing the other Gryffindor was a bad thing.

"What the bloody hell are _you_ staring at?" Ron finally demanded, patience never one of his strong suits.

"Merlin if I know," Harry countered almost automatically, "I'd always thought flobberworms were tiny little things. Apparently not," he finished innocently as Ron's hands clenched into fists at his side. "You've got dirt on your nose, by the way, just there," he added, unable to help himself as he tapped his own nose to indicate where the smudge was.

That was all the short-tempered boy needed, it seemed, as he let out a snarl and swung at Harry who didn't hesitate to casually step backwards, feeling the fist parting the air right in front of his face. "Don't do that again," Harry threatened simply, unable to just curse the red-head without giving him a chance to back down (stupid morals). "Swing at me again, and I'll fight back".

Ron snorted at that, shoving past Harry and stalking into the common room proper. "Of course you would," the red-head declared just a little _too_ loudly to be incidental, "Bloody gone dark haven't you?" he accused with a sneer, making Harry's eyes roll violently. "First you have a go at Hermione, then you threaten your own best mate? Explains a lot don't it?"

Staring at the other boy in confusion, absently noticing that most of the other Gryffindors were watching them, Harry could only shake his head slowly. "How could you survive _this_ long, being _so_ retarded?" he asked simply, making Ron's face redden even further as Harry loosened his grip on his meaner side. "I lose my temper and yell at my best friend, something I regret deeply and am going to apologize for as soon as possible, and I'm suddenly dark?" he questioned, raising his voice so the entire common room could hear him – if Ron wanted to play that game then so could he. "And then _you_ attack _me_ , and I'm dark for giving you a second chance and asking you not to do it again? Were you dropped on your head as a child?"

"Yes!" came a sheepish answer from the corner the Twins had claimed as their own for their pranking experiments, "Our bad!"

"That explains a lot," Harry deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at the fuming Ron in amusement.

"Sorry!" Fred, or was it George, shouted back.

"It's fine you two," Harry assured them, not looking away from his former best friend, "I should be used to it by now. You Weasleys all have your best traits. I mean there's a curse-breaker, a dragon tamer, and Percy works in the Minister's office doesn't he?" he asked innocently, "You two have your pranks, and Ginny's one of the best fliers I've seen in a while. Ron and his unfailing urge to betray his friends fit right in".

Now. Before his ban, Harry had been the best in the Quidditch team at dodging bludgers, especially after the enchanted one that had tried to kill him back in second year. And bludger dodging was definitely an art form, one he had down 'to a tee', as it were. Bludgers were also rather small and fast, which meant that as Ron launched himself at Harry with a roar, it didn't take any effort at all for him to dodge what was certainly _not_ small _or_ fast.

Yanking the red-head's feet out from underneath him with just a quick tug of telekinesis, Harry danced around the falling boy without any effort on his part, ignoring the wands being drawn by the rest of his House (minus the Twins who just cheered as Ron hit the ground).

"Don't get up, Ron," Harry ordered simply, feeling more than hearing the slight growl that entered his voice as he glared down at the prone boy. "I mean it," he said slowly, raising a hand to aim his palm at Ron, "Unless you want a fight, just stay down". Staring down at the glaring Ron, he raised an eyebrow as the red-head muttered something under his breath darkly. "You got something to say?" Harry demanded bluntly, "If you do, then keep it to yourself, because I'm _through_ with listening to you".

Turning on his heel and starting towards the painting of the Fat Lady, Harry decided he'd just have to search the castle by hand for Hermione, not wanting to stick around long enough to grab the Marauder's Map. His hand was just reaching out to push open the portal when he felt it, the hair on the back of his neck rising up as the air surrounding him thickened with warning.

"HARRY!"

Whirling around long before the voice even cried out, Harry was ducking under the green flash of magic and lashing out before he'd even recognised the voice as Hermione's. Lifting Ron into the air with one hand, he tore the wand from the red-head's hand and summoned it into his own with his other, keeping Ron suspended a couple of feet off the ground.

"Harry?"

Ignoring Hermione's shocked whisper and the looks of surprise on the faces of the gathered Gryffindors, Harry fought to keep Ron in the air, the power required to hold the boy up clearly dancing near the brink of his telekinesis' strength. "You know, I thought I was speaking perfect English," he began conversationally, inspecting Ron's wand in his hand for a moment before lazily chucking it over his shoulder – fully aware of the lack of respect mistreating the traitor's wand was showing - "And yet, despite my warnings, you tried to curse me. Behind my back as well. Tsk tsk tsk," he drawled. Shaking his head in mock disappointment, Harry waggled his finger at the red-head, watching in open amusement as the boy choked and squawked as his finger's movement made the horrified boy jerk about in the air.

" _Fuck you_ ," Ron rasped out, clearly struggling to be let go, "Fu- _urk!_ "

"That language isn't necessary, nor acceptable with children about," Harry mocked, slowly releasing his telekinetic grip on Ron's throat. "I would have thought you'd have learned not to throw curses at someone's back after last year, what with Draco Malfoy; the Amazing Bouncing Ferret," he explained coolly, pausing to grin smugly at the memory. "But hey," he continued with a shrug, "I don't know _how_ to transfigure you into a weasel, nor am I willing to suffer McGonagall's wrath by trying anyway and screwing up, so I guess you're lucky that we're just going to skip that part".

As Ron tried to nod quickly, the boy even paler than when Harry had lifted him into the air 'wandlessly', Harry just grinned darkly, showing off his nice teeth (in Hermione's opinion at least). "Let's just get straight to the bouncing yeah?" he asked innocently. The red-head's eyes widening in terror, Ron didn't manage to get even one word out as Harry pulled his hand back and thrust it forward violently, telekinetically hurling the boy across the room where he slammed into the stone wall with a loud _crack_ , falling to a heap at the bottom of it.

"Huh… poor execution, but you flew rather wonderfully," Harry deadpanned, turning away from the hopefully unconscious boy to seek Hermione out, grunting as the girl in question latched onto his ear in a vicious drive-by kidnapping, promptly beginning to drag him from the room as he struggled not to trip over his own feet.

Gee… one minute he's a badass (if he says so himself) who wandlessly levitated and threw Ron across the room, the next he's Hermione's bitch. Nice way to build himself up a strong reputation.

"I'm not apologising," Harry blurted the moment the portrait of the Fat Lady swung shut behind them, "To Ron, not to you," he corrected as Hermione turned blazing eyes on him. "I'm through with taking that sort of shit from my _sidekick_ ," he explained as he realised he was being led towards the Room of Requirement.

"Language," Hermione scolded instantly, "And don't talk about Ron that way, I get that you don't always get along, but he's not your sidekick".

"Good point, if he were my sidekick he'd actually be useful," Harry mused, "See! This is why I need you back! You're always putting me back on track like that!"

"That's _not_ what I meant Potter, and you know that," Hermione hissed, making him grimace as he caught sight of her determined face.

He was _so_ in trouble wasn't he?

Sighing as he resigned himself to being dragged (by the arm now, Hermione thankfully having let go of his ear) to the Room of Requirement, Harry didn't bother struggling as he was jerked back and forth by the pacing girl.

"Explain," Hermione ordered the moment they were both safely within the Room, "I _tried_ to be nice about it yesterday, and you lashed out at me. But if you can't justify what you said yesterday, then I'm gone," she threatened bravely, raising her chin to glare at him as he froze.

Oh Merlin… what did he say? Did he just tell her the truth? As in all of it? Or did he just tell her what he thought she _wanted_ to hear? Seriously, something told him that if he told her everything then she'd just dismiss it, after all who would believe that that so called 'Lord of the Light' had been obliviating and manipulating the 'Golden Boy' for years? Harry knew that he sure wouldn't have if he'd been told that, only the actual return of his memories had made him believe, and even the sometimes he thought he was going to wake up any minute despite being more than a week into the truth.

"Well?" Hermione demanded, her hands on her hips as she stared at Harry, a mixture of expectation, hope and something else he didn't recognise in her eyes.

His mouth opening and closing wordlessly, Harry found fear filling him – a feeling that he didn't like at all, one that he _hated_ – as Hermione shook her head and bit back a choked sob, the girl letting her hair fall forward to cover her face. "Fine," she rasped out, dropping her head to wipe at her face, "Just… just fine".

"Hermione wait!"

"Why?" she exclaimed, the tears visible now as she glared up at him, "You won't even _lie_ to me about it! You haven't even said 'Sorry'! Even if you didn't mean it you still could have said it!"

"I _am_ sorry!" Harry insisted, quickly stepping forward to grab her forearms as she tried to push him away, "I am".

"Then sayit!" Hermione demanded, stomping her foot angrily, "Just say _something_!"

Still unable to find the words, Harry just shrugged, making Hermione scoff and try pull away from him. Mentally begging yet unable to just _say_ it, he panicked, feeling his hand snapping out to clamp down over her forehead. Seconds later, Hermione's eyes were bulging painfully as he instinctively pushed, his memories flooding her mind as he wished desperately for his powers to help him.

When she jerked away from him, his hand falling to his side, Harry watched her nervously as she blinked… once… twice… before her eyes flicked up to meet his with a warring look of rage and pity in them.

"Oh, Harry," she breathed out, before her eyes were rolling up in her head and she collapsed limply into his arms.

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	6. Basements

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

 _Clink_

 _Clink_

 _Clink_

Blinking slowly, Harry watched as the small metal balls he'd transfigured out of pages torn from his Defence book circled each other, occasionally bouncing against one another as he directed them with only a single finger.

Eyes flicking over to where Hermione lay unconscious on the hospital bed, Harry shifted uncomfortably, ruthlessly forcing down the lingering guilt over her condition. It was because of him that she was in here, he'd panicked and done the only thing he could think of, only he'd done it without thinking in a true 'Harry Potter' fashion.

As the trio of metal balls started moving in a vertical circle instead of a horizontal one, Harry slowly returned his attention to the muggle notebook in his lap. At first he'd laughed at Hermione's suggestion to bring them for quick note-taking when they didn't have time to grab a quill and parchment, but after watching her using them only once he'd realised how much he actually _missed_ using the muggle utensils – and didn't that make him feel stupid, missing using a simple pen and paper?

 _'Keep truth hidden from D'_ was all that was written at the top of the page before him, Harry's attempt at brainstorming a way to hide his recovered memories from Dumbledore beginning and ending with _'Don't throw Ron Weasley around using telekinesis'_. Of course… he didn't regret throwing Ron around, the red-head was just lucky Harry didn't have access to that dark power he'd used earlier. He didn't doubt he would have lost control and accidentally skewered the boy if he still had that power. But still, using a power that Dumbledore knew he'd already bound within Harry – "Note to self," he murmured thoughtfully, "Research magical bindings". – was a dead giveaway that he'd either regained his memories or that the binding was beginning to fail once more.

He could only hope that Dumbledore assumed that latter, not the former.

Sighing as he began doodling, Harry settled in to wait, not planning on moving from Hermione's side until she woke up. If he missed classes because of it, then what a shame, but there were more important things in life than having a perfect attendance record… not that he'd say that in front of Hermione and expect to live long enough to find said more important things, of course. That was really something he needed to teach his best friend actually, she needed to learn there were more important things than grades or obeying the teachers, although she'd already made process on the mistrusting the teachers front ever since Umbridge had started her reign of terror without any of the teachers standing up for them.

" _Harry"_

"Nope," he refused verbally, biting his lip slightly as he turned the notebook so he could curve his drawing a little better.

" _Come to me"_

"Can't hear you," Harry dismissed, adding rough feet to the bottom of his little sketch.

" _Do not defy me"_

"Still can't hear you," he corrected, smirking to himself as he added a small black speck with wings to his drawing.

" _Harry… hear me"_

"No thanks," Harry denied, now getting a little annoyed by the voice that lurked and whispered to him.

" _Only you..."_

"Flattering… I think," he deadpanned, hoping that the voice gave up before he lost his temper and shattered something.

" _Follow my voice"_

Not even bothering to answer this time, Harry instead amused himself by adding a bow to the top of his drawing, looking at it with a critical eye before beginning to darken the lines.

" _I summon thee, Harry"_

Pausing for a moment at the voice, Harry glanced over at Hermione before returning to his drawing.

" _I summon thee. Fulfil your destiny, my son, come to me"_

Jaw clenching, Harry added the final touches to the drawing before tearing it out of his notebook, rolling it up and slipping it into Hermione's hand as he pocketed the notebook. "Where do I find you?" he asked slowly, looking around cautiously to make sure he was alone, deciding to just get it over and done with. "How do I follow your voice".

" _Trust, in your power"_

He didn't, not his power, and _especially_ not the voice living inside his head. Harry wasn't so sure he _could_ trust anything these days, aside from himself, the only other thing he trusted was Hermione and even that was rather fragile. If he hadn't panicked at the idea of losing her permanently, he was certain that he could have 'strung her along' for as long as he needed to. At least when she woke up he'd know where they stood, either Hermione was on his side and he could trust her, or she was with Dumbledore and was the enemy.

Enemy?

Shaking it off, Harry reached for the part of him that wasn't actually part of him, a whirlwind of darkness rising up and cutting all of his senses off before it was descending to reveal a dark basement. Looking around slowly, he felt a frown growing across his face as a loud crash upstairs made his head snap around, a woman's voice calling out apologies as two others scolded her.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked in a whisper.

" _Release me from my prison, my son"_

Turning to face the source of the voice, Harry strode over and dropped into a crouch, staring down at the concrete floor before him. "You're not my father," he corrected slowly, waiting for the voice to speak again.

" _No,"_ the voice admitted, _"I am not"_

"So why should I help you?" Harry asked bluntly, not interested in releasing whatever it was in the floor, but too curious about everything to just ignore it.

" _Because I command it,"_ the voice demanded.

"Congratulations," Harry deadpanned dryly.

" _I gave you an order,"_ the voice said angrily, making Harry snort and rock himself back up to his feet, looking around the basement one last time.

"I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not that great at taking orders anymore," Harry dismissed, unable to deny the feeling in his chest that the thing beneath the floor was Evil with a capital 'E'.

" _YOU DARE DEFY ME?"_

Pausing to glance up the staircase, Harry turned back to the place the evil radiated from. "Defy who? A big scary voice? Well guess what, I've got one of those too, wanna hear it? _You can kiss my demonic ass!_ " he shouted, purposely deepening his voice into a natural growl.

"I think I heard a voice down there".

Turning as he heard the door open, Harry was barely able to react as a whirlwind of black smoke appeared before him, a man striding out of it and latching onto his arm as they teleported again instantly. Within seconds of materialising wherever they were, Harry was lashing out, anger surging through him as he thrust his palm into the man's chest and black smoky darkness lifted him off his feet and hurled him across the room to shatter a grandfather clock.

A slow clap tore him from his shocked staring at his hand, making Harry spin around to stare at the black-haired man lounging in a neon yellow – which contrasted blindingly with the black everything else in the room – armchair. "Well done," the man praised as he stood up, Harry raising his hands defensively as he kept an eye on both men, the first one groaning as he pulled himself out of the wreckage of the clock. "See that Colton? I believe they call that karma," he drawled as he strode over to lift his friend bodily to his feet, "'What harm could a youngling do?' you said, completely forgetting the harm _you_ did when you joined us".

"Yeah yeah, bite me," the younger man muttered, brushing the elder off and smoothing down his rumpled shirt with a scowl, "Stop smirking at me," he ordered Harry, who hadn't even noticed the tilting of his lips.

"Now now, Colton," the elder scolded, swatting the younger around the head, "Go get our guest something to eat, would you? Give me the chance to explain things to him".

"Explain _what_ to me? Why you tried to kidnap me?" Harry interrupted as 'Colton' opened his mouth to speak.

"It seemed pretty successful to me," the elder corrected.

"I can teleport too, genius," Harry growled as Colton vanished in the same way Harry did.

"Then go ahead, teleport back to Hogwarts," the elder said dismissively, returning to his seat with a knowing smile. "I'm immortal, I can wait here for you to return as long as I need to. Because you will, return that is," the man said firmly, "You always do".

And _that_ caught Harry's attention, "I've been here before?"

"Not you, exactly," the man confessed, looking a little confused by Harry's sudden question, "But you youngsters. You're always arrogant and cocky, believing you know what's best, despite the truth of the matter".

"Which is what?" Harry pressed.

"That you know _nothing_ ," the man explained with a shrug, "You have all these powers – and what a powerful one you are too – but you know not where they come from, nor what they are".

"And _you_ do?"

"I'm one of the only two beings left in this realm that do," the man confessed with a tired smile, "I am Keir," he introduced, "And you? You are Solani".

* * *

When Hermione Granger woke, it was to the sound of furious whispers, ones that made her instinctively keep her eyes shut as she listened to her Head of House arguing with the destined owner of the 'Worst Professor Ever' cup.

"I do not care about her excuses, Minerva," Professor Umbridge was saying, "Ms Granger _will_ be having detention with me tonight, along with Mr Potter. If they wished to prevent this, then perhaps they shouldn't have missed a day's worth of classes".

"Do you hear me arguing about Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall countered, "If you hadn't given one already I would be giving him detention as well. But I will _not_ stand by and let you punish Ms Granger for being in a magically induced _coma_!"

"All punishments are _mine_ to decide," Umbridge denied simply.

"Dolores!" Madam Pomfrey's voice interrupted suddenly, "Do I need to remind you of when _you_ were a student here? More than once you spent the day here in my hospital wing after your blood-sugar dropped to low, and now you would punish Ms Granger for the same thing _you_ were let off? Or do you not recall how kind Albus was to you when you could barely stand up?"

"I er, I was uh, unaware, that Ms Granger suffered from the same condition as myself," Umbridge spluttered quickly, Hermione barely keeping herself from smiling as she heard the High Inquisitor being forced to go back on her previous announcement – wait she'd had been put into a magically induced coma because her blood-sugar dropped?

"Is that so Dolores? Seeing as I just informed you of that when you entered my hospital wing a mere five minutes ago, I find myself concerned that you've hit your head recently, to be forgetting so many things," Madam Pomfrey said warningly.

"No no, it merely slipped my mind when Minerva brought up Mr Potter," Umbridge corrected.

" _You_ were the one who brought him up, Dolores," Madam Pomfrey countered, "And I told you I have not seen him since he and Minerva here carried Ms Granger into my hospital wing this morning".

"Right. Well, then when you see Mr Potter, do inform him that he's to present himself at my office this evening at six for detention," Umbridge instructed weakly, Hermione listening to the sound of her heels click-clacking out of the hospital wing before the doors shut behind her and cut out all noise.

"Ms Granger? How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey questioned, making Hermione's eyes snap open guiltily, just in time to see the ghost of a smirk vanishing from Professor McGonagall's face.

"Not like I had low blood-sugar?" Hermione admitted hesitantly, rolling onto her back and allowing the Medi-Witch to prop her up.

"Your blood-sugar is fine, dear," Madam Pomfrey assured her, "And you were most certainly not in a magically induced coma for a mere blood-sugar problem. I just said that to get that _woman_ off your back".

"Why _was_ I in a magically induced coma then?" Hermione asked slowly.

At this question, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall exchanged nervous looks. "We were hoping you could tell us, Ms Granger," the Medi-Witch confessed, an undertone of annoyance in her voice, "When Mr Potter brought you in this morning he could only tell us you collapsed, none of my scans could pick up any reason for you to be unconscious all day. There was no spell residue, no potions in your blood, no – Ms Granger? Are you alright?"

Was she alright?

No she bloody well was _not!_ As Madam Pomfrey had been speaking, she'd started remembering flashes of someone else's memories moving through her mind, flashes of _Harry's_ memories of them _both_ being obliviated countless times by a man she once trusted more than her own instincts. No wonder Harry had been so hesitant about telling her, he'd done it before and she'd been tricked into – no… she'd _willing_ ran off to tell Dumbledore who'd betrayed them both!

"MS GRANGER!"

Tearing herself out of the memories, Hermione blinked up at the nervous looking Professor as Madam Pomfrey gently loosened her fists where she could feel the tiny pinpricks of her nails digging into her skin.

"Hmm, what's this?"

Wiping the gathering tears from her eyes as Madam Pomfrey unfurled a piece of muggle lined paper the size of her fist, Hermione watched as the woman's eyes widened before a choked giggle escaped her lips, Professor McGonagall peering over her shoulder before letting out an undignified snort of laughter that she quickly tried to muffle.

"I guess Mr Potter found something to do with his time to amuse himself," Madam Pomfrey murmured, "Oh don't give me that look Minerva," she added, "You know Mr Potter as well as I do, he wouldn't hesitate to miss an entire day's worth of classes to sit by his friend's bedside if they were hurt. Of _course_ he's been here the whole time, or at least he was," she admitted, "He must have wandered off around lunch, he hasn't been back since".

Unable to fight her curiosity any longer, Hermione slowly reached out for the piece of paper, accepting it as Madam Pomfrey pressed it into her hand.

"HERMIONE!"

"Speak of the devil," Madam Pomfrey said in amusement as Hermione's head snapped around to see Harry slipping into the hospital wing through the door.

"Sorry. I had to sneak around Umbridge," Harry apologised to her as he rushed over, completely ignoring Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall as he grabbed her hand and looked her over carefully. "Are you alright?" he asked nervously.

" _We_ are," Hermione assured him, folding her own hand around the ones he had on hers.

"Mr Potter? I hate to break up this reunion," Professor McGonagall asked slowly, "But where have you been all day?"

"In here," Harry admitted with a confused frown, "Then I went for lunch in the kitchens, and then I had to deal with official Family business".

"Official family business?" came McGonagall's slow response, "Mr Potter, I hate to be the bearer of negativity but-"

"I don't have any family left?" Harry interrupted, nodding his head in agreement, "My Mum's Mum divorced her husband before my Aunt was born. She never remarried but they stayed on good terms, even when my grandmother got pregnant with my Mum. I was contacted by my grandfather's family a week ago, today I went to Hogsmeade to meet with my grandfather's brother who runs their family".

"Can you acquire a signed slip confirming th-" Professor McGonagall faltered as Harry pulled a piece of muggle paper from his pocket and handed it to her, "Thank you," she murmured, tapping it with her wand and brightening up when it glowed gold. "Thank you," she repeated, "This is authentic. I guess I'm going to have to go visit Dolores and cancel your detention with her this evening," she explained, looking all _too_ gleeful as she held the note to her chest. "Oh and Mr Potter," she added, peering down at him, "The Headmaster wants to see you in his office," she explained before she turned and hurried from the hospital wing.

"I'm going to go check my books again," Madam Pomfrey declared, seemingly understanding that they wanted to be alone, "You, stay in bed and don't stress yourself".

It was only when she and Harry were alone again, that Hermione remembered the piece of muggle paper Harry'd 'amused himself with', unfurling it as she caught sight of his sheepish grin and blinking down at the rough drawing on it.

A fat little toad sat on a lily pad, tongue mid-way towards the fly in the corner. But what made the drawing absolutely brilliant, was the presence of the bow-tie on its head, the high-heels it was wearing, and the moustache and goatee drawn on its face.

She'd forgotten the last time she'd laughed that hard.

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	7. Headmaster

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

"You're not actually going to see the Headmaster are you? Harry?"

Looking up at his friend, who was carefully picking at the meal the house-elves had brought up from the kitchens for her, Harry just shrugged weakly.

"I don't know," he admitted when Hermione glanced up at him, "It'd be suspicious if I don't, but it'd give everything away if I do".

Hermione didn't answer straight away, something Harry had come to expect as she thought about what to do. What would her solution be? Harry's first thought had been to just walk in there and start cursing, but both Keir _and_ Colton had argued that idea vehemently. He didn't doubt that Hermione's plan would be just as brilliant as the rest of her plans always were, and if it were anything like the DA, then Dumbledore would be in for a 'wild ride' as it were.

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, moving the food around her plate with her usual confused frown on her face. "Everything's so… jumbled, it doesn't make sense," she explained hesitantly, hand rising to rub at her forehead. "Did you really throw Ron across the room? And why would Dumbledore erase that memory?"

"He didn't," Harry corrected sheepishly, "I did that this morning",

As Hermione shot him an unimpressed look, Harry shifted uncomfortably. Why was it that he didn't regret hurting Ron, but he did regret Hermione being involved? Maybe next time he needed to make sure Hermione wasn't nearby when he beat up Ron, that way she couldn't send him that same 'I'm not happy with you right now' look. Maybe he shouldn't sit here planning on beating Ron up either, as Hermione was _now_ sending him a look that screamed 'I know what you're thinking and I'm not pleased'.

"Then why would the Headmaster erase the other memories?" Hermione questioned instead, looking like he'd both shattered her belief in the world around her and told her belief was true at the same time. "Why would he do that at all? It doesn't make sense!"

"I know," he agreed, shrugging when Hermione stared at him expectantly. "I don't know either," he confessed, "All I know is that every time I've started to develop these powers, he shows up to obliviate me. Sometimes he does it within the hour, and then sometimes he only finds out the next day. I think this is the longest I've gone without being caught," he added as Hermione frowned again.

"There's got to be a reason for him to-" Hermione froze at that, making Harry look around cautiously. "It's dark," she exhaled suddenly, making Harry stiffen immediately, "Or at least he thinks it is. Do you remember strangling Ron?" she asked him, eyes both focused on him and slightly glazed. "I said- I said that this… telekinesis… made you mean. And then look at this morning, when you threw Ron across the common room," she added thoughtfully, Harry letting her speak as he recognised the classic signs of a Hermione-epiphany. "And it's not like you don't lash out sometimes, you've cursed Malfoy enough times that we both know that. But you've never _mocked_ anyone like that before," she explained, "And every time you start using these powers of yours, you always start being a little cruel".

"So being able to move things with my mind makes me evil?" Harry deadpanned, earning another unimpressed look from Hermione.

"I never said that they were directly related," she argued, "And I never said evil, just mean. You can't deny it Harry, you've never actively hurt Ron without these powers being involved".

"You mean I've never actively hurt Ron and not been obliviated for it," Harry countered, "Fourth year, after the first task. I refused Ron's apology and he snapped, I didn't even _have_ these powers then, and I still ended up having to fight him. I don't think me lashing out at Ron is a sign of my powers turning me dark, I just think that it's a sign that I'm wising up to his shit".

"Language," Hermione scolded instantly, "And I never said that I was right, this is just a working theory," she reminded him.

"Yeah? Well keep working on it," Harry muttered, "Sorry," he added when Hermione's eyebrow shot up.

"See? You're being a little mean," she pointed out.

"Hermione. I've been betrayed more times than I can count," he reminded her slowly, "I think if anyone's allowed to be a little mean, it's me. Ron keeps turning on me without hesitation, each time turning back and expecting me to just forgive him just like that," he snapped his fingers and watched as Hermione jumped, "And when I refuse, he accuses me of being dark, before getting Dumbledore to obliviate me".

"That doesn't justify snapping at me does it?" Hermione countered curtly before freezing, Harry watching nervously as she paled slightly. "Except I've apparently betrayed you as well," she finished quietly.

"If it makes you feel better, what little I can remember shows that you didn't do it out of spite," Harry murmured, reaching out to brush his fingers against the back of Hermione's hand. "You always did it for good reasons".

"Not that it makes it any better," Hermione muttered darkly. "I'm just not sure about anything anymore, Harry," she confessed, "Dumbledore's supposed to protect us, not obliviate us".

"And Professor Umbridge is supposed to teach us, not torture us," Harry pointed out slowly. "Speaking of which," he added as he stood up, "I'm supposed to be meeting with the Headmaster now, if I keep him waiting he might give me detention with Umbridge _and_ wipe my memories".

Hermione's expression told him that she clearly didn't find his attempt at humour funny, making him shrug as he turned and left the hospital wing.

He had a traitor to deal with.

* * *

"Ah… Harry my boy, come in".

Watching the man cautiously, Harry stepped into the room, glancing around for a moment to ensure they were alone, before fixing his most charming smile on the Headmaster… who promptly flinched away from him.

"Please, sit, Harry," Dumbledore requested, a weak grandfatherly smile flashing across his face. "Your friend, Ronald, has been telling me a most interesting tale this morning".

"He's very good at telling tales," Harry agreed simply, sitting down on the scarlet armchair slowly. "It's harder than astronomy at midday to figure out the truth in them though".

"There are ways to do so easily however, Harry," Dumbledore countered, eyes twinkling as the two sat in silence, staring at each other. "The easiest way being that of legilimency," he explained, "The counter for which Severus is telling me you've made no progress on".

"It's hard to make progress when Snape refuses to even look at me, Sir," Harry pointed out slowly, forcing his body to relax as to not give his game away.

" _Professor_ Snape has had to come to a series of very hard truths about your upbringing," Dumbledore admitted, "Truths that it seems he preferred not knowing. He needs some time to change how he perceives you, just be patient and keep practising your occlumency".

"How? He never actually told me what to do," Harry argued, raising an eyebrow at the Headmaster who just sat there twinkling.

"Just clear your mind, it will come to you," Dumbledore explained cryptically, "Now, back to your altercation with Mr Weasley this morning if we may Harry?"

"What about it? He took a swing at me, I asked him not to," Harry dismissed slowly, "He tried to curse me from behind and I defended myself. Ask Hermione if you want, or the Twins, they were there".

Dumbledore smiled at him for a moment before sighing, sagging down in his chair as it seemed like he aged a hundred years at once. "Can we cease this game, Harry? I'm not as young as I once was, I tire much more easily," he said suddenly, eyes no longer sparkling as he stared intently into Harry's own, "It also seems as if I'm hurt much more easily too, your thoughts about me haven't been particularly kind since you entered my office".

"If you wanted me to say nice things about you Sir, then perhaps you shouldn't have obliviated me last year," Harry said simply, not at all surprised by the confession that Dumbledore had been reading his mind. "Why did you do it, Sir? What was so important about me being friends with Ron that you would erase my memories about it?" he asked, not making a move to stand as the Headmaster seemingly aged even more.

"While I understand that at times Ronald can be rather… unpleasant… to be around," Dumbledore began hesitantly, "I also understand that he is truly your first and best friend, that and his family's firm position as a Light family make them some of the best in Gryffindor for you to befriend. Misters Finnigan and Thomas – while polite young men – are half-bloods and lack the background and knowledge that the Weasleys possess. And Mr Longbottom, while a strong young man as well, has the unfortunately piece of luck to be under the care of his grandmother, a woman who makes Professor Snape seem kind, Molly is such a better alternative. I believed it necessary to alter both your memories to prevent the two of you from destroying such a strong relationship, especially when I thought it likely that Rita Skeeter would find out and spread more of her ridiculous lies".

Harry wasn't sure what to believe, but he knew for a fact that it wasn't the bullshit that Dumbledore was sprouting.

"Yeah well, Rita Skeeter isn't a concern anymore," he dismissed slowly when he realised Dumbledore was waiting for him to speak, "And even now that Ron and I aren't friends, I'm still friends with the Twins and Ginny, so you don't have to worry about me losing the Weasleys. Not that it should matter in the first place, as whoever I'm friends with isn't any of your business," he spat, intentionally keeping his eyes away from Dumbledore's to prevent the man from seeing his thoughts.

"Perhaps not," was all Dumbledore said in response, "But what _is_ my business is the manner in which you defended yourself against Mr Weasley, how long have you been able to do that Harry? It is truly a remarkable gift".

"Just… just this morning," Harry lied, frowning in confusion slightly. "I didn't know I could do it until I actually did it".

"Truly? You seem to have a strong grasp on how to use it," Dumbledore pointed out slowly, making Harry shrug and look up at him.

"It's easy, Sir," he explained, "I just move my hand and want it to move, and it does".

Dumbledore hummed for a moment, looking deep in thought as Harry rolled his eyes the moment the man looked away. "As remarkable as this gift is, Harry, I'm afraid you cannot be allowed to keep it," he apologized, Harry's body freezing up as if he were under the effects of the body-binding curse. "Just a single leak in the binding will cause everything else to come pouring out," he explained sadly, "You may not understand it now," he added as Harry glared at him darkly, "But one day you will see it is for the Greater Good".

" _Obliviate_ "

"Harry?"

"Sorry, Sir," he apologised slowly, dropping his hand from where it had been rubbing his forehead in pain, "I just have a headache all of a sudden".

"That's quite alright, Harry," Dumbledore assured him with a small smile, "You should head over to see Madam Pomfrey for a pain-relief potion, perhaps check up on Ms Granger as well. And remember, Harry," the Headmaster added as Harry stood, "While you may feel like you and Ronald are worlds apart, a simple apology is better at mending bridges than wishful thinking and hope".

"Of course, Sir," Harry agreed, smiling sadly at the Headmaster as he left his office. Heading straight for the hospital wing as the man suggested, Harry ducked into a secret passageway, rapidly climbing a series of steps before grunting as he rounded a corner and bounced of a taller boy's chest.

"Harry," the black-haired boy said in greeting, cutting off his attempts to apologise, "Do you remember me?"

"Uh… no? Sorry," Harry said awkwardly, "Sorry, I only tend to hang around the other Gryffindors".

The boy sighed for a moment before reaching out, latching onto Harry's arm and yanking him forward suddenly. "Hey! Let me-" a sickening feeling in his gut cut Harry off, a whirlwind of black smoke rising up around them as he felt like the ground beneath his feet was gone. "Go," he finished weakly as he collapsed to his knees in a dark room, rubbing at his chest in pain as he watched the boy backing away cautiously, his hand dropping towards his wand as a second man appeared to crouch before him.

"Harry! Stop," the second older-looking man ordered, raising his hands calmingly "Relax. We're not going to hurt you".

"Yeah right, you kid-" Harry was cut off for the second time in minutes, as the older man slammed his palm into Harry's forehead for a moment, and something in his mind just shattered. "Harry?" the man asked as his vision swam.

"Keir," he ground out, "I think I'm going to be sick," he blurted, immediately latching onto the bucket that appeared in a swirl of smoke. "He obliviated me, that bastard obliviated me. You were right," he added, glancing up at the five-hundred year old demon kneeling before him.

"Of course I was, I'm always right," Keir agreed with a wink, Harry watching as Colton left the room without a word. "Don't worry, he's just going to get us some food, since you had to leave so quickly earlier".

Nodding and allowed Keir to guide him over to a bright blue armchair, Harry sank into it, keeping hold of his bucket just in case. "It worked then?" he asked slowly, "Do you think he'll relax now? Think that I'm under his control again?"

"As long as you keep your head down," Keir confirmed, "Our kind may be mildly telepathic, but not even we can keep breaking through such blocks. In fact, I believe only I am strong enough to do such a feat".

Harry nodded again, "And my powers? Can we get them back?" he questioned hopefully, already feeling more vulnerable without his telekinesis.

"Colton should be grabbing a power restoring potion from the stockpile already," Keir assured him, "Now. What do you remember from when we left off?"

" _You have all these powers – and what a powerful one you are too – but you know not where they come from, nor what they are"._

" _And you do?"_

" _I'm one of the only two beings left in this realm that do," the man confessed with a tired smile, "I am Keir," he introduced, "And you? You are Solani"._

" _Solani?" Harry echoed slowly, eyes narrowing at the man suspiciously, "I'm not a gypsy," he denied bluntly._

" _Solani," Keir corrected with a chuckle, "Not Romani. We are Solani, or in the English? Nightshade. The Nightshade Demons"._

" _Demons? I'm not a demon," Harry refused automatically, ignoring the way something in his chest twitched at the denial, "I'm… I'm a little mean now," he confessed, "But I'm not a demon"._

'You can kiss my demonic ass!'

 _Why had he said that before? He wasn't_ actually _a demon, was he?_

" _Not entirely," Keir agreed with a shrug, raising his hands in a 'what are you going to do' manner. "I am. As I said, I am one of the two beings in this realm that understand your powers fully, that is because he – the one you came so close to releasing within that basement – and I are the only surviving members of an ancient war between the Solani and the Elders. You, Colton, and several dozen living Solani in the world? You are only_ half _Solani, we lost the war and were cursed by the Elders because of it. Now we can no longer breed with our own, for our children to survive we must breed with a human, a mortal," he explained sadly, "You may be powerful now, but you wield barely half of the power our kind once possessed"._

" _I'm not evil. I'm not a demon, or a half-demon," Harry argued weakly, Keir not speaking as he stood and moved over to Harry slowly, "Am I?"_

" _Does it make you feel better to know, that you are also half-human?" Keir asked softly, cupping the side of Harry's neck with a faint smile. "You may not have the strength the Solani once had, but you have something greater. A heart, and a soul," the ma- the demon – clarified as he pressed a hand against Harry's chest gently, "And that is what makes you stronger"._

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	8. Nighthaven

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

" _Colton should be grabbing a power restoring potion from the stockpile already," Keir assured him, "Now. What do you remember from when we left off?"_

"I'm half-demon," Harry blurted, shaking his head slowly, trying to push past the pain that shattering the mental block induced, swaying slightly as memories fitted themselves back into position. "I'm Solani, a Nightshade Demon. You mentioned a war," he continued, "You said something about the 'Curse', then I felt Hermione wake up and I had to leave".

"Indeed," Keir confirmed, the two of them sitting opposite each other in brightly coloured armchairs within a darkly decorated room. "Our ancestors – the ones who came before me, even – kidnapped several Whitelighters – guardian angels for good beings – and experimented on them. And yes," he added as Harry's face twisted into a grimace, "I personally find it to be rather distasteful as well, however it was merely one clan of our species that did this not the Solani as a whole. They experimented on the Whitelighters, pushing evil and shadows into their hearts, changed them".

"Into what?" Harry asked when Keir paused with a scowl, "What did they become?"

"The first Darklighters," the elder demon explained stiffly, "Assassins, hired muscle these days. But back then they were the warriors we lacked, the Solani have always numbered a mere few compared to other demonic species".

"And the Elders weren't happy about it?" Harry realised, "If it was the Elders that invoked the Curse, not the Whitelighters?"

"The Elders _are_ Whitelighters," Keir corrected absently, "Their strongest, their leaders. They declared war upon seeing the 'travesty' of what our kind had done to their own, and well… they destroyed us utterly," the man admitted softly, "I was only a child during the war but I remember it so well".

Sighing, Keir pushed himself up out of his chair and moved away from it, staring into the darkness surrounding the room for a moment before shaking his head. "The excuse we were given, for the actions of those who corrupted the Whitelighters was just," he explained bluntly, "They sought to eliminate the greatest weakness of the Solani, to eliminate those who could kill us with a wave of their hand. Not even the Source of All Evil could eliminate us as easily as the Whitelighters could".

"Why? Uh, how?" Harry questioned, not willing to test the strength of his legs by standing just yet. "The name?" he realised making Keir's eyebrow rise, "We're Solani, it means 'Nightshade', but they're Whitelighters which is pretty obvious to put together. They're the light to our darkness?"

"Very good," Keir praised quietly, making Harry's lip twitch for a moment as the man spread his arms out and took a deep breath. "The Whitelighters are formed entirely of white orbs of light, while the Solani? The full-blooded Solani at least?"

Closing his eyes, Harry watched as Keir's body wavered for a moment before black smoke seemed to explode out from his skin, as if his body had popped. His human body vanishing in a swirl of darkness, Harry's jaw dropped as he stared at the swirling mass of shadows that hovered in the air before him, blending in almost perfectly with the blackness of the room itself.

" _We are the Night"_

Harry flinched back instantly, hearing Keir's voice in his head the same way he'd heard the voice from the basement. "You…"

" _Indeed. As I said, I am one of two beings left in this realm to truly understand the power of the Solani,"_ Keir's voice whispered in his mind, _"The other is my brother, we two are the only remaining survivors of the Elder's war on our kind. All Solani that exist now, are descended from either myself, or from Dow, the one who attempted to escape his binding within the Halliwell Nexus through you"_

"Halliwell Nexus?"

Before his eyes, the shadow that was Keir shifted and warped, compressing down and then evaporating to reveal Keir's human form standing there. "Harry," the demon began, striding forward and kneeling before him, "You can _never_ return to that basement," he ordered bluntly. "Within that basement is something called a 'Nexus', a point of _incredible_ energy. Dow attempted to claim that power for himself, he wished to use it to break the Curse and destroy the Elders. He was caught however, by a witch named Penny Halliwell, she resided within the home with her three granddaughters. And, because she was unable to kill him, the witch banished Dow into the Nexus. He's..." Keir paused to search for the words, reaching out to rest a hand on Harry's forearm as Colton quietly re-entered the room to stand in the shadows. "Trapped, half-way between the Nexus itself and this world, like a cork. To access the Nexus one would need to access him, to release him," he explained.

"He's a fucking psychopath," Colton's voice muttered darkly, making Keir glance over his shoulder with a scowl.

"He's my brother," the demon said in warning.

"And my Uncle," Colton countered coldly, moving forward into the room with a tray in his arms. "That doesn't make him any less crazy," the young man argued, "If you release him then he _will_ attack the Elders, whether he can win or not. Then the Elders will realise we still live, and will wipe _all_ of us out, no matter how guilty we are".

"I remember the war, through my own memories and those given to me," Keir said hesitantly, jaw clenching as he watched Colton place the tray on a table between the armchairs before throwing himself into the demon's armchair lazily. "A war against demons, against witches, we could survive. But Whitelighters? They have no trouble killing us, they are our one true weakness, for all our power we cannot stand against them".

"So don't go back to that basement, no matter how annoying that bastard gets," Colton muttered, making Keir growl slightly. "Hey it's true, he's constantly reaching out to harass us".

"So one of the last true Solani is our leader," Harry said slowly, "While the other one's a raging psychopath?"

"Pretty much," Colton agreed.

"I… cannot argue that," Keir confessed, rubbing his temples for a moment before falling back into a pink armchair that appeared in a puff of smoke. "Just… just understand, there are three laws that all Solani must follow. The first is _never_ expose yourself; if word gets back to the Elders, they'll exterminate us for good. The second law is to avoid the Charmed Ones and the Halliwell Nexus at all times; the Charmed Ones could vanquish you with a flick of their wrists and to access the Nexus is to release Dow. And thirdly, never vanquish another Solani; there are too little of us as it is. Do you understand?"

"Uh… yeah? I do?" Harry confirmed slowly, making Keir nod in satisfaction and wave his hand dismissively at the shadows surrounding them, making the darkness fade away to reveal the entire room. "Where are we?" he asked curiously, looking around at the black room slowly, taking in the large mirror on the wall and the ladder leading up to a trapdoor in the ceiling.

"San Francisco," Keir said simply, pushing himself up out of his chair and gesturing for Harry to follow. "Near the wharf, to be more specific. Above us is the mortal home of Colton and two of our Solani brothers, as they are half-human they still need to dwell on the material plane".

"Material plane?"

"This," Keir explained slowly, "This is the material plane, and that, that leads to the home of the Solani," he finished as they came to a stop in front of the mirror. "And yes, we have no reflection," the demon added as Harry's jaw dropped again, the black-haired wizard twisting around to look back at the glass Colton was holding, which was floating of its own accord in the mirror. "Because this is not truly a mirror, but a doorway".

"To where?" Harry asked, only for Keir to step through the mirror in answer.

"You might want to follow him," Colton's voice said from behind him, "He'll only get testy if you don't. I swear he enjoys being all dramatic when new Solani are discovered".

Reminding himself that it was no different than the barrier to platform nine and three quarters, Harry moved forward to step through the mirror as well, shivering slightly as it felt like stepping through a thin wall of cold water. Blinking quickly so his eyes adapted to the duller light on the other side of the mirror, he slowly looked around the wide enormous cave he and Keir were standing in, taking in the dark mist covering the ground and the three men sparing in what looked like a large boxing ring.

"Where are we?" he whispered, unable to shake the feeling of _home_ in his chest.

"The Arctic," came the man's response as he watched the sparring men fondly.

"Like… the Arctic ocean?" Harry asked slowly, staring at the demon in shock.

Keir just shook his head in response, "No, I mean the Arctic. Welcome to Nighthaven," he declared, clapping his hand down on Harry's shoulder. "Welcome home".

* * *

"So… I like you and all… but I'd rather not get caught in a broom closet with you".

The answer to Harry's statement was an unimpressed look from Colton that would have made both Professor McGonagall and Hermione proud. "You do realise I'm a guy, right?" the older half-demon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I can feel that," Harry deadpanned, smiling innocently at the man pressed up against him in the broom closet. "That's the problem, actually," he added making the man grimace.

"Just go lay down," Colton ordered, "The power unbinding potion took a lot out of you. Keir will be in touch".

"As long as he doesn't touch me like you are," Harry said bluntly, making the other Solani pull a face and vanish in a swirl of darkness, leaving him to shudder slightly. "I vote we never do that again," he muttered to himself, listening carefully for a moment before pushing open the broom closet door and stepping out, smoothing his shirt down as he automatically started towards the hospital wing.

He wasn't going to go lay down, a pepper-up potion would more than re-energise him, but instead he was going to see if he could drag Hermione up to the Room of Requirement to talk. Keir had 'allowed' him to tell Hermione about the wiccan world, so long as he lied and claimed that he was a wiccan as opposed to confessing his demonic side. And while he didn't like the idea of lying to his only friend that… hugely… he understood why he had to do it. While he trusted her and looked upon her as his sister, he couldn't trust her not to over-react to the whole half-demon side of things, not when muggle religions paint demons as evil beings.

Harry didn't _feel_ evil, but since when does the truth of things matter to wizards?

Or witches… wiccan witches that is. Keir and Colton both had warned him that wiccans had a habit of vanquishing first and asking questions never. The Solani thankfully, were more than capable of bluffing their way past several 'demon checks', since as half-demons they had no demonic form to revert to and as half-humans they had normal-coloured blood. They also 'froze' – whatever that meant – according to Colton who had subtly tested it out himself, however one tested out freezing. (Harry knew that they didn't mean ice freezing, but Colton hadn't gone on to explain himself any further and Harry hadn't asked).

"I'm worried about Harry, sir".

Coming to a crashing halt, Harry stared at the door to the hospital wing blankly, feeling himself 'turning off' his emotions as he heard Hermione let out a loud sigh.

"He had a hard enough time forgiving Ron last year," Hermione was saying, "I don't think he'll be able to do it again this time. He was hurt enough last year, but this time he actually had a bout of accidental magic when Ron attacked him".

"Accidental magic, Ms Granger?" Dumbledore's voice asked slowly.

"Of course, Professor, what else could it have been?" Hermione pointed out, "Harry never drew his wand, and as powerful as he is there's no way he cast a banishing charm wandlessly. Besides, it's not the first time he's had accidental magic, he inflated his Aunt in third year".

"So you believe that it wasn't Harry's fault what happened?" Dumbledore questioned, "That's why I'm here after all, Harry cited you as a witness and I wanted to make sure I didn't punish anyone unjustly".

Harry rolled his eyes at that. If anything it sounded like Dumbledore was just checking in to see whether or not he had to obliviate Hermione, something it seemed his friend had anticipated if her 'accidental magic' theory was any indication.

"Of course it wasn't Harry's fault!" Hermione exclaimed, sounding offended. "Ron _attacked_ him from behind, he cast that disgusting slug expelling hex at Harry's back! I know you can't exactly praise Harry for fighting another student, but you have to admit that he was rather well restrained. Last year Harry would have fought back, but this time all he had was accidental magic. Do you think that's an aspect of occlumency?" his friend added curiously.

"Greater emotional control _is_ a benefit of studying occlumency, yes," Dumbledore agreed simply, Harry hearing the sound of a chair being pushed back as the old man stood. "Very well, thank you for your aid, Ms Granger. I shall leave you to rest now".

"Of course Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said cheerfully, Harry looking around nervously as he realised he was going to get caught eavesdropping if he remained in the hallway.

Whatever his friend said next, Harry didn't know, as he turned and quickly rushed down the corridor. Sliding into an alcove and peering around the suit of armour, he couldn't help but suppress a snigger at how very 'James Bond' he felt watching the Headmaster leaving the hospital wing and striding off in the other direction. This year was going to be so very cloak and dagger it seemed, what with not only the Dumbledore's Army (that Harry _really_ wanted to rename now), but with the new factor of Harry needing to keep his powers and heritage a secret from everyone.

"Harry!"

"What's it with everyone and screaming my name recently?" he drawled as he shut the hospital wing door behind him, glancing around to make sure it was just him and Hermione before sending her a tired grin.

Rolling her eyes at him, Hermione shuffled over and patted the bed beside her, making Harry move over to jump up. "What happened with the Headmaster?" she asked before he'd even had the chance to settle, "He was just in here asking about your little fight with Ronald. I told him it was just-"

"Accidental magic," Harry interrupted, making her nod, "I know, I was listening. And he obliviated me," he admitted bluntly, watching as his friend flinched back with a resigned look, "You were right. He seems to think this telekinesis of mine is dark, he didn't change anything about my argument with Ron, only changing my power to accidental magic".

"He didn't change the fight with Ron? I assumed he would want you two to be friends again?" said Hermione thoughtfully, the girl biting at her lower lip as she frowned.

"He claimed the reason he did it last year was because Ron was 'truly my first and best friend'," Harry explained softly, "And because the Weasleys are a 'light family'. He also didn't want Rita Skeeter getting involved," he added with a shrug. "I told him that I was still friends with Ginny and the Twins though, so maybe he doesn't care about whether I'm still friends with Ron as long as I'm still connected to the Weasleys?"

"Maybe," Hermione mused, not sounding at all certain. "I don't think we should just accept his word as true though, I don't think we should take _anything_ at face value".

"No," Harry agreed slowly, gearing himself up to lie through his teeth to Hermione, "We really shouldn't".

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	9. Neville

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

"I think you should talk to Neville".

Grunting in greeting, Harry glanced up at Hermione as his best and currently only friend slowly sat opposite him. "He's taking this whole Bellatrix Lestrange thing rather hard, don't you think?" she explained quietly, pointing her chin towards the once timid Gryffindor who was sitting in the corner, going through the wand movements for what last night's DA meeting had named the 'Flasher Jinx' with a determined expression on his face.

"Do you think he actually wants to talk?" Harry countered as he watched the boy smirk to himself upon successfully getting a small flash of light to erupt from the end of his wand. "Huh… that light was blue, he's getting a hang of that spell faster than you are," he added, ignoring the glare from the girl who couldn't manage to get the light the right colour.

"That's _exactly_ why I think you need to talk to him," Hermione insisted, "Seamus and Dean aren't friends with Neville are they? And we both know that even when he's in a good mood, Ronald doesn't exactly care about other people's feelings. You're the only other person who really knows him".

"I don't think he needs someone to comfort him," Harry denied simply, staring at his dorm-mate as he watched the boy nod to himself upon getting a stronger flash of light, altering his wand movement to encourage it more.

"Harry..."

Rolling his eyes, Harry pushed his Transfiguration homework to the side as he stood. "He doesn't need to be comforted," he corrected, "Don't even try it Hermione. I know what he needs, and comfort's the last thing on his mind right now".

He remembered the look on Neville's face, and he could hazard a pretty good guess at how the other boy was feeling right now. When Harry had thought that Sirius had betrayed his parents to die, he'd wanted revenge, he'd wanted to make Sirius pay. The last thing he wanted was for someone to sit him down and say they 'understood'. After meeting Mr and Mrs Longbottom, he could tell that Neville loved them just as much as Harry loved his own parents – despite the way neither of them had truly ever met them. That the news of Bellatrix's escape was the reason behind Neville's personality change wasn't hard to guess, nor was the best way to approach Neville right now.

" _Excaecatio Lux_ ".

The brilliant blue light making Neville flinch back, the boy blinked his eyes rapidly to clear them of the spots the spell had no doubt brought about, Harry just tried to casually adjust his grip on his wand. "You need to twist your wrist more sharply towards the end of the gesture," he instructed bluntly, "It's less of a slash and a flick as it as is a slash and a snap. You've got the slash down right, but you need to carry the gesture better".

Blue-brown eyes blinked at him in shock as Harry sat opposite him at the small corner table, the half-demon fully conscious of Hermione's eyes burning into him from across the room.

" _Ex- Excaecatio Lux_ ".

Eyes watering slightly from the bright flash of light that erupted from Neville's wand, Harry just nodded as the boy looked at him hopefully. "Uh, one more time, aim away from me this time though," he asked slowly, making Neville flush as he hurried to obey, Harry smirking slightly at the cries of outrage from their suddenly blinded house-mates. "You've got the movement down," he assured the nervous-looking Gryffindor, "I think it's just the emotional aspect of the spell you're missing. Anger is a terrible trigger".

"I thought you said that emotion fuelled our magic," Neville argued softly, staring down at his wand and avoiding Harry's eyes.

"I did," Harry confessed, "I doubt I would have lasted against Voldemort without pouring everything I had into my disarming charm. But right now? Errant emotion will only hinder you from being able to learn the spell, if you can't focus on the feeling you need to cast the spell then how can you expect to use other emotions?" he pointed out, making Neville nod his head simply as a determined look came over his face. "Neville," he interrupted as he saw the familiar sign of the boy arguing with his fragile self-confidence, "I saw the way you mastered the Shield Charm last night, if you can do that then this you can do this".

There was no response from the nervous boy at first, Neville keeping his eyes locked on the table between them. "Why… Why was Hermione in the hospital wing yesterday?" he asked suddenly, fingers tightening around his wand when Harry didn't answer straight away. "She's my friend too. I deserve to know," Neville insisted, looking up at Harry with a stubborn look in his eyes.

"She didn't eat dinner the night before," Harry admitted slowly, a little impressed by Neville's strength. "Nor did she sleep well. That combined with dealing with my… temper tantrum… yesterday made her have a dizzy spell and faint, Madam Pomfrey kept her in the hospital wing all day while she slept. But if anyone asks she was suffering from low blood sugar," he added with a knowing wink at the boy who blinked at him in shock, as if he hadn't expected his demand to work.

" _Excaecatio Lux_ ".

"Ow," Harry deadpanned, blinking rapidly to try clear the black spots from his eyes. "That was bloody _brilliant_ , Neville," he exhaled as he rubbed at his watering eyes with his sleeves, "I think that was even stronger than _my_ one".

"That was _amazing_ Neville!" Hermione's voice exclaimed as Harry felt his friend appearing at the table, "How did you do that?"

"H- Harry just showed me what I was doing wrong," Neville defended, his voice breaking as Harry's vision returned to a shadowed room instead of just a blue-black blur. "It was nothing".

"I really doubt that Neville," Hermione corrected, Harry lashing out to kick her under the table as he caught the pitying note in her voice. "I mean, you're a very strong wizard when you want to be".

"But Malfoy says-" Neville began.

"Who the hell _cares_ what Malfoy says?" Harry interrupted, "Miniature dungeon bat," he added with a scowl.

" _Harry_! That's… kind of accurate actually," Hermione confessed unhappily.

"Say, Neville," Harry began as the boy sniggered at Hermione's comment, "Now that Ron's no longer interested in being our friend, Hermione and I have a spot open in the Room of Requirement if you want to join us? We just spend the time before a meeting going over the spells, I can hardly teach a spell that I don't know myself can I? You want to join us?"

"M-me?" Neville blurted, eyes going wide in shock. "Why?"

"Why not?" Harry countered, "You're a powerful wizard, definitely more so than Ron. And you and Hermione also learn spells differently, so I'd have someone with logic and someone who's not a robot," he explained.

"I'm not a robot," Hermione muttered under her breath, making matching grins flash across Harry and Neville's faces. As their fellow Gryffindor looked down at the table, deep in thought, Hermione looked up at Harry to send him a 'don't push it' look that promised pain if he kept teasing her like that.

"Okay," Neville decided suddenly, the determined look back in his eyes as he glanced between them, "I'm in".

* * *

" _Half-demon doesn't mean half-evil"_.

Those had been Colton's words to him after Keir had dropped the half-demon bombshell on him. He'd been telling the truth too, or at least Harry _believed_ he was telling the truth… okay, so Harry believed that _Colton_ believed he was telling the truth. Whether or not Colton was right was still up for grabs.

It was driving him mad though. He couldn't just lock himself away for a couple of days as he went over all his memories – the telepathic breaking of the memory charm unlocking more than the potion had – because that would be too obvious and suspicious to his friends and Dumbledore. Harry was being forced to act like nothing was wrong, and it was killing him, the amount of times that he had to forcibly restrain himself from teleporting across the castle instead of walking and the amount of times he'd had to remind himself to stand up and walk across the room to pick up an item he wanted to grab telekinetically.

And of course, that wasn't including the way he wanted to use the shadows to strike down anyone who so much as _looked_ in his direction funny.

But the thing that was perhaps hurting him the most were Colton's words.

" _Half-demon doesn't mean half-evil"._

He wasn't so sure about that. Every time he came across a memory while doing the meditation that Keir had taught him, Harry had to sit there and watch as he discovered one of his demonic powers and promptly started hurting people with it.

That conversation he had with Hermione about wandless conjuration? His first use of it had been to conjure a large tack on Lockhart's seat during class, and then he'd more than happily started trying to repeat that on Malfoy's seat in the Great Hall. Later that year he'd teleported out of the Chamber of Secrets with Ron and Ginny, leaving the aforementioned idiot down there to rot, only for Dumbledore to alter their memories and go get Lockhart himself. And in third year he'd telekinetically thrown Malfoy down the hallway when the idiot tried to make fun of his reaction to dementors. But that wasn't even getting into what had happened _last_ year, his powers seemed to be constantly breaking through last year, he had been obliviated during the Tournament more often than he had throughout his other three years at Hogwarts.

If being a half-demon didn't make Harry evil, then did that mean that _Harry_ made Harry evil?

Except… maybe it was just his biased opinion, but if Snape could get away with torturing innocent children (and Harry) like he did without Hermione calling him evil, then Harry – who did 'smaller' things than ruin a young boy's interest in potions – definitely wasn't evil was he? If Snape could get away with it, then why couldn't Harry? Although he wasn't too happy with the comparison he made between himself and Snape, it was still a good comparison.

Voldemort was evil.

Snape was just an asshole.

Harry would rather be an asshole than evil.

"Harry? Harry?"

"Hermione, Hermione," Harry shot back, blinking rapidly as he glanced up at said bushy-haired girl curiously, "Is breakfast over?"

"No, but you've got Divination all the way on the other side of the castle," Hermione reminded, making him bite back a groan as he looked down at his bacon and eggs longingly. "Oh don't give me that, you've only been pushing it around your plate since you got here," she added scoldingly, "And while normally I wouldn't care so much about you conveniently 'missing' Divination, _She_ is likely to be there and I don't want you to do anything to give her a reason".

"I would point out that _breathing_ is enough to give her a reason, but I'm pretty certain she'd have a go at me if I stopped as well," Harry muttered under his breath, making Hermione roll her eyes yet still nod. "See you for Charms?" he asked as he pushed his plate back and watched as the food vanished with a ripple.

"No, I was thinking of skipping it so I could go take a nap," Hermione denied bluntly, making Harry nod before faltering. "Of _course_ you'll see me in Charms, what kind of person do you take me for?" she demanded as Harry stared at her in shock, "I'm not Ronald, Harry".

"I know that. Ronald doesn't have breasts," he deadpanned in response, pulling a squeak from Hermione's mouth as her arms quickly crossed her chest. "I wasn't looking," Harry added as his friend's eyes narrowed at him, "Neville was".

Grabbing his bag and making a run for it as Hermione squawked in response, Harry pulled his bag over his shoulder and started on the path for the divination classroom, absently wondering the hell he hadn't dumped that subject after his first year taking it. Oh yeah… he _had_ been planning on dropping it, but Ron's nagging had made him change his mind. Merlin… it was a good thing he was an asshole now, Nice-Harry was such a push over, he wasn't going to miss having him around. Nice Harry _or_ Ron.

Reaching the Grand Staircase in the centre of the castle, Harry jumped up onto the first staircase as it started to move away from him, easily hopping across to the second staircase when the first came to a stop.

"Potter".

Freezing at the base of the staircase as it started moving, Harry looked up at the person standing at its top, recognising the look in Malfoy's eyes as his 'I'm going to torture Harry' look. "What do you want Ferret?" he asked before Malfoy could speak, absently realising that this was the perfect opportunity to cement his status as the new 'Asshole Harry'.

"I heard that your little pet mudblood ended up in the hospital wing," Malfoy began angrily.

"You heard right," Harry interrupted, "Would you like me to let her know you were thinking of her? She's all better now, but I'm sure your support would mean the world to her".

"I- what?"

"I'm surprised you care at all," Harry continued, slowly moving up the stairs while Malfoy was distracted. "But it's good to know you're finally getting over your dislike of each other. I'm all for a little rivalry, it keeps the blood pumping after all, I find the outright hatred and jealousy you showed towards Hermione to be rather bad for both of your health. Now that you've finally accepted that a mere muggleborn is better than you'll ever be in every way possible, you can finally start working on accepting the fact that you're nothing but Voldemort's little lackey".

"What?" Harry asked as Malfoy's face went red in anger. "You don't like 'lackey'? What about… toadie?"

"Shut up!" Malfoy spat, his wand snapping up to jab into Harry's neck, the half-demon not making a move to stop him.

"No… not toadie… you strike me more as a flunkie," Harry corrected slowly, staring into Malfoy's eyes as the boy finally realised that Harry was standing right in front of him. "Nothing but a magically weak, empty minded, _gullible_ flunkie".

"My wand is at your throat, and _you_ insult _me_?" Malfoy hissed out angrily, the tip of his wand beginning to burn at Harry's skin. "Who's empty minded now?"

"Still you," Harry said bluntly, grinning a toothy grin at the furious blonde, "After all, I can do this".

And with that, Harry's hand snapped out to shove at Malfoy's chest, the boy's face changing from anger to fear as his arms cart-wheeled back – the boy beginning to fall right over the edge of the staircase. "You see," he continued, hand twisting into a fist to stop Malfoy from falling, holding him in the air telekinetically. "I'm really not in the mood to deal with you anymore, little flunkie, so the next time you even _think_ about coming over to mess with me I want you to think about how close you came to becoming nothing more than a blonde-coloured stain on the floor. Do you understand?"

As Malfoy nodded rapidly, Harry unsurprised to see tears in his eyes – bullies always seemed to cry when the tables were turned on them for some reason – he just let his toothy grin spread across his face again.

"Good flunkie," he praised before releasing Malfoy, the blonde letting out a girly shriek before he hit the ground. "I _did_ say 'gullible' did I not?" Harry asked casually as he stepped over the prone Malfoy and moved across the landing to the next staircase.

"Idiot".

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	10. Skeeter

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

Harry Potter was many things. Boy-Who-Lived. Survivor. Triwizard Champion. Solani.

But what he wasn't, was a man of Hermione Granger level intelligence.

And it showed…

It showed in the way that he could lie to Umbridge's face about whether or not he knew anything about the person who had jinxed her hair and skin pink (It had been Gred and Forge), yet he couldn't last a day without telekinetically moving something across the room because he couldn't be arsed getting up. It showed in the way he was running the DA behind Umbridge's back, yet couldn't resist smoking into the bathroom from his bed most mornings because the ground was cold and he didn't want to walk on it.

It also showed in the way he couldn't resist antagonising Umbridge, whether he was asking pointless infuriating questions in class or he was moving her chair out from underneath her with a subtle flick of his fingers.

Funnily enough though, while Umbridge could torture him all she wanted in detention, she was unable to get away with assigning him detention when she had no proof he'd done anything in the first place. She'd tried to give him a week's detention the first time everything went flying off her desk – she hadn't asked for proof or even looked up at him either – but the Headmaster had stepped in to inform her that while she had the final say in student punishments she wasn't allowed to give detentions without 'due cause'.

Of course, Umbridge had then given him detention for 'tattling', despite the fact that he'd done nothing or the sort. She'd had due cause to suspect him however, so Dumbledore had been given no choice. At least he'd spoken to Harry though. Aside from his attempt at obliviating him, Dumbledore had gone back to trying to avoid Harry completely.

There was one thing though, that even being of Hermione's smartness wouldn't have helped him with. And that thing was _girls_. He'd all but forgotten about his Hogsmeade 'date' with Cho Chang, and it'd only been the girl coming up to him the day before the visit that'd reminded him – okay… that was a lie, that wasn't what reminded him, what reminded him was the way she'd started their conversation with a simple…

"I can't come to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Harry".

"Uh… what?" Harry had replied intelligently, a porridge-filled spoon halfway to his mouth as he blinked at the girl (who suddenly didn't look so attractive anymore) in confusion.

Cho shifted nervously, blushing furiously as she twisted her hands together. "I can't make it to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Harry," she repeated hesitantly, "My grandmother, the Head of House Chang? She's called an emergency family meeting, apparently an old 'blood enemy' of our House has shown up and the entire family needs to be there to deal with it. It's all a bunch of boring politics," she admitted with a roll of her eyes, "But I can't get out of it. I begged, but Mum said I'd have to wait until next Hogsmeade to have our little date," she apologised with a blush.

"Oh… uh, okay?" Harry answered slowly, "I mean. I can't blame you for having family troubles," he corrected quickly when Cho's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'd never try force you to abandon them like that," he explained, "And it's not like you're cancelling on me is it?"

"No! No, of _course_ not!" Cho exclaimed.

"Then why don't we have lunch together next weekend then?" he offered, not really looking forward to a date when he had much better things to do. "We could grab some food from the kitchen and go sit by the lake?"

"That sounds wonderful," Cho mumbled, her blush still having yet to start fading. "So I'll uh, I'll see you later?"

"Of course," Harry agreed, watching as Cho smiled at him uncertainly before heading towards the door to the Great Hall, glancing over her shoulder with a small smile.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned as Cho left the Hall, "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to go out with her," he admitted bluntly as he glanced over to his best friend, the two of them sitting alone near the end of the table. "I'm just not... into her anymore".

"Well that _does_ make sense," Hermione said quietly, "You've got a lot on your plate, what with well... you know," she pointed out. "You're probably just subconsciously blocking out your attraction to her because you're trying to deal with everything else that's come your way".

"Maybe".

"Or maybe you're no longer attracted to her because you've changed your view on things," Hermione continued absently, "You've realised some things, and suddenly in comparison Cho doesn't seem so important anymore".

"Really?" Harry asked, fixing his friend with a shrewd look.

"I... I read a lot of my Mum's cheesy romance novels," she confessed with a blush ten times more brilliant than Cho's had ever been. "You know me, I finish reading all my books so I have to get my fix _somewhere_. And Mum's cheap bookstore romances are just... there".

"You know," Harry began in amusement, "You're a terrible liar".

Hermione's blush only grew. "Oh shut up".

Snorting in amusement, Harry leaned forward against the table with a sigh. His best friend was right. He'd forgotten entirely about his 'date' with Cho in favour of trying to find time to sneak over to Nighthaven in between classes, homework and their secret DA meetings. He hadn't managed to do it much, maybe once a week at the most, but it had still bore fruit in the form of more knowledge. In addition to learning more about the Solani's history, Harry had also learnt more about his powers and what to expect from them in the coming days.

For example. Harry could speak telepathically – but _only_ with other Solani. He could push his memories and thoughts into other people's heads, true, but that normally left them unconscious and disorientated. It had become a habit for Harry to only speak telepathically when at Nighthaven – it saved a lot of time, since sitting around verbally speaking took time he could be using to run laps (like Colton ordered him to, something about improving his fitness) without having to try catch his breath.

Not only that, but Colton had sent him to a rather grumpy Solani called 'Stephen', who'd taken on the challenge on teaching Harry how to utilize his limited telekinesis to the best of his ability. He wouldn't be going around picking up cars or fat people, but Harry could manage someone his weight and size with just one hand – as he'd done with Malfoy and Weasley.

Okay sure... Harry had yet to figure out how to tap into his 'umbrakinesis' – the shadow manipulation that his kind were known for – consciously, but Keir assured him he'd get the hang of it sooner or later.

For now though, Harry just had to fend off Hermione. The bushy-haired girl had remembered that Harry could conjure things and was now... pressuring him wasn't the right word, but she was pushing him to figure out how to use it again. He'd love to show her the progress he'd made with his smoke-whirling (as Keir called it), but even _he_ could tell Hermione would be suspicious of a 'Witch' having such dark powers.

After all, shadows weren't things 'nice' people tended to have power over.

* * *

"Harry! Harry!"

Groaning as his fingers curled around the edges of his blanket, the Harry in question just growled and clutched them tighter against the yapping being trying to remove them.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

"Shut up".

There was a pause, during which Harry opened an eye curiously, hoping the annoying person had gone away. Groaning as Hermione's scowling face came into view, he shifted about and promptly shoved his head under his pillow. It was his day off and he wasn't getting up any time before lunch. He'd only gotten to bed at one in the morning in the first place, having gotten carried away at Nighthaven last night while Hermione had been in the library.

"Do you want to piss the fuck out of Umbridge?"

"I'm up," he blurted, still not entirely awake as he shot up in bed. Her words echoing through his mind for a moment, Harry narrowed his eyes at his friend, "You swore".

"She deserves worse," Hermione said sweetly, "Shower and meet me downstairs, we don't want to be late do we? Oh, and wear something nice!" she called over her shoulder as she strode from the boy's dormitory.

Sighing as he dragged himself out of bed, Harry looked around at the otherwise empty dormitory and resisted the urge to just crawl back under the blankets as he shivered. Everyone else was either already in Hogsmeade or was still eating breakfast, leaving him alone in his dormitory for the first time pretty much all year. He didn't even get the chance to take advantage of his isolation, what with Hermione waiting for him downstairs.

Quickly going through the process of showering, Harry ended up standing before his trunk and blinking dumbly down at it. He didn't really _have_ any nice clothes, the only ones that he did have were his school ones. Unless... tapping into the core of his demonic powers in his chest, Harry reached out and concentrated on what he wanted, keeping the image set in his mind. Black smoke crawled around his fingers, seemingly seeping out from his skin as a soft weight appeared in his hands. Casting an appraising eye over his conjuration, Harry inspected it for flaws, having never tried to conjure something so complicated as clothing before.

Pulling it on with a satisfied grunt, Harry took a moment to conjure a pair of pants and boots for himself as well. Dressing and checking himself in the mirror before he headed down to meet Hermione.

"Oh wow... you clean up nicely," his best friend blurted in shock as he stepped off the staircase, her eyes running over his body slowly. "Not including your hair, of course," she corrected, "But that's an endless battle. Where... where did you get that shirt from? I don't remember you wearing something like that before".

"I can't give away all my secrets, I've got to have some mystery after all," Harry said innocently as shot her his best charming smile. "So, are we finally going to drop that dungbomb crate in Umbridge's office?" he asked hopefully, trying to distract Hermione from the epiphany that he could see lurking behind her eyes.

"Even better," Hermione denied, his distraction working as she smirked evilly.

" _Two_ dungbomb crates?"

"I was thinking more of giving Rita Skeeter an exclusive interview about Voldemort's return," Hermione said bluntly, Harry's jaw dropping before he could stop himself. "All the dirty little facts that the Ministry don't want people to know. It helps to have a reporter in my pocket".

"Rita Skeeter," Harry repeated, making Hermione nod with a dark look in her eye. "And are we talking about a _real_ interview? Or a Rita Skeeter styled one?" he pressed, making Hermione's eyebrow just rise in response. "Oh you are _evil_ ," he exhaled slowly, looking at his best friend in a new light as she blushed slightly.

"I _was_ going to force her to give a proper interview," Hermione admitted sheepishly, "But then with everything that's happened so far, I couldn't help but imagine what Umbridge's face would look like if we set Rita Skeeter on her".

"How are you going to pay for this?" Harry asked casually, watching as Hermione froze at his question. "You don't expect Skeeter to do her best for _free_ do you? If we want her to flay the skin off Umbridge's back with her words alone, then we need to make her happy with us".

Hermione stared into the unlit fireplace for a moment before nodding. "You're right," she said without hesitation, "What if we offered to pay her and removed our restrictions on her? Let her print whatever she wants as long as it doesn't involve the two of us?"

"It'd have to be a pretty hefty price," he pointed out simply, "We own her right now, she's not going to make this easy on us". Hermione nodded again before faltering and shooting him a guilty look, "I'll have to see when I can get to Gringotts," he added knowingly, "After all, I'm the one buying her services".

"Oh Harry, _never_ phrase it like that again," Hermione instructed with a grimace before checking the magical clock on the wall. "We need to leave now if we want to get there in time, do you have your invisibility cloak?"

"Naturally".

"Then let's go," the bushy-haired girl declared firmly, "It's time to give the Ministry a taste of their own medicine".

* * *

"You're late".

"We're five minutes early," Hermione corrected coldly as she and Harry shut the door of their private room behind them. "Hello Rita, you look like hell".

Harry had to suppress a snort at that wicked understatement. Rita Skeeter looked like something the cat had dragged in. Her clothing was ripped and rumpled, her hair was deranged and oily, and some of the fake gems in her glasses had fallen out. As he watched her glaring at them, Harry felt the price of their interview go down with glee – she was desperate, he could work with desperate.

"And you look just as bushy-haired as you did last time we saw each other, Little Miss Perfect," Rita sneered, eyeing Harry curiously from the corner of her eye.

"You know what," Harry declared suddenly, pretending not to notice the look of concern that flashed across Hermione's face as he shoved himself back up to his feet. "I don't need to deal with this. Come on Hermione, I'm sure there are _other_ reporters we can give this exclusive to, probably be cheaper to deal with too," he added casually.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Rita exclaimed suddenly, looking and sounding hysterical as she too jumped to her feet in a panic. "I was just joking with Ms Granger, you know how us girls get I'm sure," she lied rapidly, understanding blossoming in Hermione's eyes.

"I'm not sure you mean that," Harry countered, "We're here to offer you the deal that would turn any nobody into the wizarding world's greatest reporter, and you open by insulting us?"

"Come now, Harry, have I ever said anything insulting about you before?" Rita asked sweetly, her face falling a couple of seconds later as she realised what she just said.

"That's why we contacted you first," Hermione said quickly, latching onto Harry's idea and running with it. "You've turned ruining someone's reputation into an art-form, and why start with a beginner when we can go straight to a master?"

Rita froze, eyes blinking like a demented owl as she glanced between the two of them. "I'm listening," she said as she lowered herself back into her chair, a suspicious look on her face as she picked up her glass of Firewhisky and took a deep gulp.

"We have two jobs for you," Hermione began, Harry sitting back to let her take the reins here. "First, we want you to report Harry's versions of events. He's told the Minister the truth and the Minister's too much of an idiot to believe him".

"That's it?" Rita asked shrewdly, "You're keeping to your impossible claims? That You-Know-Who is back?"

"They're not impossible," Harry corrected bluntly, trying to control his temper. "And I have proof. I've offered the Minister it and he turned me down. Proof I'm now offering to _you_ ," he added as an afterthought, "Assuming that is, you know how to capture memories?"

"Naturally," Rita purred as her hand reached blindly for her crocodile-skin handbag.

"Of course, I'll be giving you a full interview regarding Voldemort's return," Harry continued and making the witch flinch, "The ritual he used to do it, the inside man he had at Hogwarts, the names of the dozen Death Eaters he summoned and unmasked in front of me. You interested?"

She was interested. She was practically salivating at the idea.

"It's the second job that makes things a little more interesting," Hermione added hesitantly, exchanging a conflicted look with Harry. "You ruined our reputations last year, now we want you to do it to someone else for us".

Rita let out a barking laugh the moment Hermione's words penetrated her scoop-filled vision. "Oh how the mighty have fallen," she hissed out.

"The target is Dolores Umbridge," Hermione interrupted.

"I'm in".

"What?" Hermione blurted in confusion, clearly having been ready for a whole speech.

"That foul _thing_ took everything I had when I refused to write about Harry," Rita confessed with a glare, "Buried me beneath false charges and had almost everything I own confiscated by the Ministry until I see fit to 'see the light'. It'll be difficult, she's the Minister's right-hand woman, she'll be almost impossible to touch".

Huh. Harry hadn't been expecting _that_ twist.

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

 _ **Alright. So there is a new poll up on my profile now that my old one has finished, this one regarding whether or not this story will have a pairing or not. The options (all two of them) will be there for you to vote on, and all votes given through review will be IGNORED. (Well forgotten about, but still ignored if remembered).**_

 _ **With my return to the workforce and desire to write for other fandoms as well, I'll be limiting myself to publishing one chapter per week for EACH story I have going. You won't need to worry about waiting five weeks for another Endless Nights chapter, since each story will get an update once a week.**_


	11. Anger

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

With Rita Skeeter under his thumb to deal with Umbridge, Harry attacked life with a new enthusiasm.

Sure. He _was_ paying Skeeter almost half of the money he'd won from the Tournament last year, but admittedly he was also sending her into the snake's pit without any anti-venom. Umbridge was dangerous. She wasn't hesitating to torture him and other students, and she had happily ruined Skeeter's life when the reporter had refused to write trash about him.

She needed to go, and the fact that Hermione seemed to agree with him made Harry feel a lot better about imagining the horrid woman's death. And yes, he knew that Hermione wasn't thinking about _killing_ Umbridge like he did occasionally, but it wasn't that he wanted to kill her as much as it was that he just wanted her to not be alive anymore. Still, his friend was _mostly_ on his side, and that was enough to put a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

Umbridge hated it when he smiled, it was wonderful.

Anyway, Luna had shown up randomly to assure him and Hermione that the interview Skeeter had sent her way would be published either that week or the following one, depending on whether or not Luna's father closed the 'scoop' on the Crumple-Horned Snorkack article he was currently writing. So hopefully he wouldn't have to wait much longer before seeing how the rest of the school reacted to his story – separating the non-believers from the sheep that'll flock back to him the moment he proves he's innocent.

Like they always do.

Of course, now that he was himself again, he was going to do what he'd wanted to do since first year. He was going to say 'No thanks' and turn his back on them like they did to him, laughing all the while. Strangely enough, Hermione seemed to think that he was holding onto some residual anger from Dumbledore's betrayal, and that he was 'unfairly' taking it out on everyone else. Harry however believed that his treatment of everyone else was more than fair, and that anger was preferable to wanting to kill everyone involved. Which he didn't want, by the way, while he often entertained daydreams of hurling Dumbledore from the Astronomy Tower with his mind he would never actually do it.

"Harry stop. You need to let go of this anger, it isn't helping as much as you think it is".

"Not you to," he groaned out as he opened his eyes to glare.

"Hermione is a clever girl, even for a witch," Colton countered simply, eyes still closed as he sat cross-legged on the rug. "You cannot channel your rage through your powers, it's a lesson we all must learn," he continued, "Anger will suffice in regards for your telekinesis, but to tap into the night you must be like the night, calm and still".

"You've never spent the night in my dormitory," Harry muttered under his breath as he shifted uncomfortably. "I have to pee," he added bluntly over the sound of running water coming from the other Solani's stereo.

"Oh my god," Colton exhaled, finally opening his eyes to scowl at Harry. "Do you even _want_ to learn how to use your powers? Do you think you can survive without your offensive powers? Other demons will wipe the floor with you! What happens if you get attacked? Do you think you'll beat them? How? Will you use your telekinesis on a full-blooded demon? You couldn't take on a _darklighter_ with your telekinesis let alone a real demon! Conjuration? Yes, let's conjure rocks to throw at them! Your only option is to smoke away and hope that they cannot track you!"

"I have my magic".

"Oh _yes_!" Colton shouted angrily, the black haired man pushing himself to his feet and beginning to pace. "Because that's going to work!"

"Keir says it does," Harry corrected coldly.

Colton glared, "Then he's probably right," he confessed unhappily, "But that doesn't change the facts. What if you come up against a demon resistant to wizardry?"

"Then I'll use my telekinesis instead".

Colton just sighed, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling with a groan. "I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you," he deadpanned as he stalked out of the room, leaving Harry alone in the older Solani's living room with nothing but his own thoughts and the water noises coming from the stereo.

"So… can I go now?" Harry called out, frustrated both at Colton's mood and at his inability to control his own mood. "No?" he asked himself when he heard nothing in response, sighing as he sagged down on the fluffy carpet that coated the floor of Colton's place. Unfortunately he couldn't just leave, not when he'd promised Keir that he would put as much effort into his training as he could, and the best way for him to do that wasn't for him to walk out of his second meditation lesson because it was 'too hard'.

He was just contemplating lying down on the really soft carpet when Colton stormed back into the room and threw something at him, Harry's seeker reflexes kicking in fast enough for him to catch the book before it hit him in the chest. "It's Keir's," Colton snapped angrily, "He wrote it after some Solani a couple of decades ago had anger issues. He lent it to me to help me try get my own temper under control and now I guess it's your turn," he explained as he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at the clock. "Now go, go practice in your dorm or something because I've got plans that do _not_ include having to babysit".

"Hey! I'm fifteen," Harry defended, wanting to try argue the topic of his anger issues but knowing he didn't really have a ground to stand on. "I don't need to be babysat, I've been looking after myself for years".

"And what a wonderful jobs you've been doing so _Ilona_!" Colton exclaimed, a change of character flashing across his face so quickly it left Harry dizzy, as the scowling dark-haired man practically started _glowing_ as a sheepish looking Asian girl declared her presence with a knock on the doorframe. "You're early!" he blurted as he shot Harry a wide-eyed look.

"Class let out early," 'Ilona' confessed awkwardly, "Is this a bad time? I can come back later?"

"No!" Colton denied quickly, "This is Harry, he's my cousin. Aunt Lily sent him round so I could try help his temper, we both have issues with that you see, and I'm going to shut up now".

Ilona just giggled, "I can wait?" she offered slowly, an understanding look on her face. "Meet you at the restaurant?"

"Harry was just leaving," Colton corrected bluntly, still not having looked away from Ilona, "He's got to get back to school before his free period is over anyway. Just… just read the book," he instructed, finally looking to Harry. "And get out".

Hiding the grin that was fighting to form on his face at the self-claimed 'suave' man turned into a bumbling idiot at the sight of a pretty girl, Harry just stood and tucked the book under his arm, unable to hide his snort of amusement as Colton sent him a telepathic threat of castration. "I'm gone, I'm gone," he said quickly as the black-haired man turned to glare at him, backing away quickly and rushing past Ilona towards the door even as he reached out to meet Colton's mind and say " _Colton and Ilona sitting in a tree_ " in a sing-song voice.

" _What are you? Five?_ "

" _Fifteen,_ " Harry countered innocently, as he headed into the garage to smoke away, " _But close enough_ ".

Shadows wisping around him as he reappeared behind a tapestry leading towards a dead-end out of the school, Harry snatched up his schoolbag from where he'd left it hidden behind some rubble, shoving the meditation book into it as he threw it over his shoulder and slipped out into the corridor.

With a glance to his watch, he set off for the Great Hall, promising himself that he would force himself to eat something. He may be half-demon, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to be nervous about the backlash his interview would create, he already knew that he would be given detention by Umbridge – although Hermione had promised to see what she could do about that. He'd barely been able to eat anything that morning, and Colton had threatened to force-feed him if he refused to eat on his own. Apparently he needed to eat more naturally to help fuel both his magic and his demonic powers, he didn't know, he hadn't been listening to Colton much at the time.

"Why is everyone staring at me this time?" Harry asked in greeting as he sat opposite Hermione, the bushy-haired girl blinking at him dumbly as he helped himself to the bacon on the plate between them and set about making a sandwich. "Did the Ministry publish another article?"

"It's not their article that's making everyone stare," Neville corrected from where he was sitting beside Hermione, the boy looking pale and fidgety as he stared at Harry as well.

Taking a moment to process the boy's statement, Harry felt himself both perking up and hunching over in the same movement. "The Quibbler published it then?" he asked simply, making both of his friends nod, "And?"

"Rita kept her promise," Hermione admitted slowly, "She wrote exactly what we agreed on. And Umbridge banned all copies of the Quibbler from the castle when she found out, she's furious, threatened to expel us both if we didn't tell her where you were".

"Not that it helped, of course," Neville piped up, "Couldn't tell her what we didn't know".

"So now what?" Harry asked, looking between the two slowly. "This was all Hermione's plan; I don't know what to do now that _she_ banned the Quibbler. I'm just following orders". It had been a good plan while it lasted too, at least he knew that other people out in the Wizarding World would be reading it, even if he had to put a hold on his plan to shoot down the apologies of his fellow students for now.

"Don't you see Harry?" Hermione hissed out, glancing around before leaning in to whisper. "This is _perfect_! It's exactly what I wanted for her to do!"

Harry blinked. "I don't follow".

Rolling her eyes, Hermione leaned in further. "She banned the Quibbler, now everyone wants to read it to find out _why_ ," she explained excitedly. "The entire _school_ now knows what you saw. And… and I think you've got them convinced, I think they finally believe you!"

Sagging down in his seat Harry nodded slowly. "Now what?" he asked aloud. He'd only been following Hermione's lead in this, while he knew what the consequences of it would be, he didn't know what the next step was. He knew he would need to practice his acting abilities, he would be the centre of everyone's attention again, and he didn't know if his act would hold up under that much scrutiny. Hermione and Neville had both seen that he was no longer the boy he'd once been, although Hermione thought it was because of the Betrayal while Neville attributed it to Voldemort's return.

"Now we wait," Hermione said with a dismissive shrug. "I mean, I've got ideas, but I can't start planning things now when we still don't know the backlash of this interview. Umbridge is going to come down on us harder than a niffler on Treasure Island".

"What's Treasure Island?" Neville questioned, making Hermione shake her head.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that we need to be ready to deal with Umbridge when that particular beast rears its ugly head," she said. "Which is why I think the three of us need to stick together for the rest of the day and try to remain in public areas. I have a plan to deal with her but we need to be in public for it to work," Hermione assured them, Neville looking nervous while Harry just nodded in agreement.

"POTTER!"

"This public will work," Hermione added quickly, "Almost the entire school is here now. This is good".

"POTTER! HOW DARE YOU?" Umbridge's high-pitched shriek continued as the pink-clad toa- woman half-ran down the Great Hall towards him.

"I dare to do a lot of things, Professor," Harry replied innocently at a not-so-gentle under-table nudge from Hermione's foot. "Could you be more specific?"

Umbridge looked like she was going to explode, her face a dangerous red as she trembled furiously. "You- You spread this _filth_!" she shouted before stopping herself and forcibly calming down. "I had thought your _lessons_ had taught you not to tell lies," Umbridge continued, her voice higher and ten-times sweeter than he had ever heard it before.

"My lessons? You mean the detentions where you force me to carve ' _I must not tell lies_ ' into my hand?" Harry countered when Hermione looked at him encouragingly. "Why, they're the reason I did this. I thought that everyone out there should know the truth," he bluffed, sending Umbridge a wide smile as her piggy eyes widened.

Mouth opening and closing silently for a moment, the most hated Professor in the world just stood there twitching, a copy of the Quibbler held to her chest. "Well, Mister Potter," she forced out slowly, looking like she was being forced to restrain herself from launching across the table to throttle him, "Obviously the lessons haven't sunk in yet. How does another week's worth of dete-"

"Professor!"

Once again looking utterly flabbergasted, Umbridge just slowly looked over at Hermione, who had shoved her hand into the air expectantly. "Professor, I have an important question for you," the bushy-haired Gryffindor explained quickly, "What advice do you have for me – as a muggleborn – in regards to a career at the Ministry? I'm asking you because I believed you would know, what with how your mother is a muggleborn".

Silence answered Hermione's question as Umbridge's face went from an angry red to a deathly white.

"How?"

"How did I know?" Hermione finished casually, the entire Great Hall utterly quiet as the Golden Trio faced down Umbridge. "A law was passed sixteen years ago in the Wizengamot stating that a list of the names of all the members of the Ministry with muggleborn relatives was to be kept in the Hall of Records where the public could access it," she explained cheerfully, "Because the people deserve to know who they're voting for in the elections". Hermione paused for a moment, tilting her head curiously and putting Harry's own acting skills to shame, " _You_ were the one to write the law, Professor, how could you have forgotten already?"

As whispers erupted throughout the Great Hall, Harry fought to keep his face blank. This was beautiful! Umbridge's stance on muggleborn was _very_ negative and _very_ public, and now everyone in the school knew that she herself was born of one. He didn't doubt that someone would soon tell their Mum or Dad who would happily spread it around to everyone they knew, ruining the muggleborn-hating Umbridge's reputation forever.

The Professor seemed to realise this too, as she stood frozen in horror, her eyes wide and locked sightlessly on Hermione's face. Moving her lips in the shape of a familiar word, Umbridge cleared her throat and squeaked out "Detention".

"For what Professor?" Hermione countered immediately, "You don't have due cause to give either of us detention when we broke no school rules or educational decrees".

"Mister Potter told more of his filthy lies," Umbridge defended softly, all the wind having left her sail and leaving her a weakly whimpering pink mess.

"Like I said. We broke no school rules or educational decrees," Hermione repeated, a smile flashing across her face that was three bits smug and one bit victorious. "Is there a problem Professor? Or can we get back to lunch?"

As Umbridge turned and stumble-ran out of the Great Hall, looking like she'd had a bad run in with dementors, Hermione just turned back to smirk at Harry and Neville. "Rita's next article is on Umbridge's clear anti-muggleborn attitude despite her muggleborn mother," she added innocently, "I believe she's going to imply that Umbridge's mother's mysterious death wasn't that mysterious".

"I can't wait," Harry blurted.

"I hope we don't have to," Hermione confessed, looking a little nervous. "She's going to be distracted for the rest of the day trying to contain that knowledge, but by tomorrow morning she's going to attack us somehow. If the article doesn't come out tomorrow then we're in trouble".

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**


	12. Escape

**ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

A sliver of light shone in the pitch-black room for a moment before a pair of footsteps echoed as the light went out, the sole inhabitant on the room unmoving as he listened to his companion slowly descending the stairs to join him in the darkness.

"Umbridge isn't going to last much longer before she snaps," the voice of his most trusted advisor said simply as he turned his head in her direction. "Between Skeeter and the 'Golden Duo', she's being run ragged. She'll do something drastic to try reassert her dominance, and when it fails she'll lash out violently".

"I know," was all he said in response. He'd seen people like that before; his 'family' were people like that.

"Are we prepared for it?"

"Yes," he confessed before hesitating, "No".

Eyes blindly staring dead ahead, he listened as his companion moved slowly around his throne-like armchair to stand in front of him, almost _sensing_ the way she put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrow. "What's that saying?" he asked casually, trying to keep the strain out of his voice, "She's 'all bark' and 'no bite'?"

"I'd hardly say having the Ministry behind her gives her no bite".

"I'd hardly say having the Ministry behind her gives her a bite in the first place," he countered immediately. "She won't risk going public, she'll be slapped down faster than she can blink and she knows it. She'll try attack directly and privately, and we're prepared for that".

"No. _You're_ prepared for that, I don't see – why are we sitting in the dark again? _Lumos_!"

Cringing as light blossomed from the tip of Hermione's wand, Harry reached up to shield his eyes as his head throbbed in pain. "That's better," his best friend said simply as she flicked her wand to banish the light into the air above their heads.

" _Now_! You may be prepared for this, Harry, but I'm not," she continued as she sat down in the armchair beside his, "You have your telekinesis and telepathy, but I'm still an untrained witch".

"I'm barely more trained than you," Harry argued as he rubbed his temple. "And my telepathy isn't like that, it's... complicated".

"Of course it is," Hermione agreed, head still even though her voice betrayed her eye roll. "No offence, Harry. But it's still more than I've got. As horrid as she might be, Umbridge is still a fully-trained witch. And well… as amazing as the DA has been lately I don't think I'm ready to take someone like her on". Hermione paused with a disturbed expression on her face, "For someone who takes pleasure in carving open children's hands, I don't imagine she'll hesitate to use some dark curses if it's for the 'Greater Good'," she admitted slowly, "And the spells we've learnt in the DA will only get me so far if I'm right".

Not answering straight away, Harry clenched his hand into a fist beneath his robes as he turned to stare at the large poster of him on the wall. The work of Gred and Forge, he was lucky that the enchantments they'd cast on it had worn off by now, as his giant face staring down at him randomly shouting things like 'Dung!' and 'Umbridge!' would be sure to make his growing migraine only worse.

"You won't be alone," he promised slowly, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against his chair. "Whatever she does to you, just call my name and I'll show up to help you. We'll tie her up and dump her in a trunk for the rest of the term if we have to," he suggested as he cracked an eye open to watch Hermione's snort. "Lock her in the trunk and get Fluffy to guard the room so no-one can release her. Dobby can give her food to stop her from starving to death and we can spend the rest of the year in peace".

"Right up until Filch walks past whistling a ditty and knocks Fluffy out," Hermione countered.

"Ear plugs. Giant ear plugs".

Hermione snorted again. "Of course, why ever didn't I think of that myself?" she asked sarcastically.

"You were too busy marvelling at my sheer genius," Harry deadpanned, earning a third snort from his best friend as he shifted slowly in his armchair. "I had another dream," he blurted suddenly, unable to keep it to himself for much longer, staring at Hermione who just froze in response. "Voldemort was talking to Rookwood, something about Avery lying to him about taking 'It' from the Department. I think he was talking about the weapon Padfoot mentioned. They mentioned Bode," he added, knowing his friend would that find that titbit interesting.

"Bode... so that's why they killed him," Hermione murmured slowly, her brain moving at a hundred miles per hour as usual. "There must be defensive spells on the weapon or something, that's why he was in St Mungo's. And Voldemort killed him because he was recovering and would be able to identify who put him under the Imperius Curse, they couldn't risk it".

"And now Rookwood's told Voldemort _how_ to get whatever the weapon is, but Voldemort still can't for some reason," Harry mused, "I just got the feeling that he can't," he clarified when Hermione frowned at him.

"You're not supposed to be feeling _anything_ , Harry," the bushy-haired brunette pointed out with a sniff. "Professor Snape is teaching you Occlumency for a reason, remember?"

"And it's working," Harry defended, keeping up the lie about Snape's Occlumency training, he didn't want her getting suspicious about where he was _really_ going after all. "I mean I'm in control again, I can feel him trying to slip in and he can't. This time though _I_ slipped into _his_ mind".

"Can you even do that?" Hermione questioned suspiciously, "I mean, I thought your telepathy was more communication and advanced warnings?"

"That's what I thought," he admitted with a shrug, "I still feel like there's some kind of connection between us, like a backdoor in my mind or something. Not like Snape's doing anything to help," Harry muttered darkly, his usual hatred of Snape helping relax Hermione.

"Promise me you'll try clear your mind tonight," his friend pressed slowly.

"I do it every night, Hermione," Harry defended sheepishly, "It just doesn't work so well each time," he explained thinking back to the frustrating book on meditation hidden inside his pillow.

"Promise you'll try harder?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry meet Hermione's and smiled. "I promise".

Hermione stared at him for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. "Now that we're down here anyway, have you done your homework?"

* * *

No. Harry had _not_ done his homework.

If he had, then Harry would without a doubt remember the exact purpose of the Patronus Charm. Said purpose was to ward of beings of darkness like Dementors and Lethifolds, and coincidentally, Solani.

Thankfully Harry was only _half_ -Solani, or he imagined he'd have melted into a puddle of Solani-goo on the floor the very first time someone (Hermione) had managed to summon their Patronus. As it was, he was lucky he'd only been struck with the almost overpowering urge to be sick along with a minor case of sunburn. There was also the stabbing pain in the back of his head that happened whenever he looked directly at a Patronus, but that was thankfully averted by a pair of conjured black sunglasses and an easily accepted excuse of migraines.

"They're so pretty!" Cho was saying, making Harry roll his eyes safely behind his sunglasses.

He didn't like her anymore. She'd cancelled on him twice now for their date, and although he had been going to cancel on her anyway Harry was offended by her sudden dislike of him. He didn't like being dumped. He'd mentioned this to Hermione, who'd only muttered 'Boys' under her breath before listening to him rant without complaints.

"They're not meant to be pretty, they're meant to protect you," Harry shot back across the room, earning a warning look from both her and Hermione. "What we need is a Boggart, that's how I learned. I had to summon a Patronus with a Boggart-Dementor right there. It's much harder but it works a lot better when you need to use it in a real scenario".

"But wouldn't that be scary?" Lavender asked nervously, another failed attempt at casting the Patronus falling from her wand.

"That's the idea," Harry admitted bluntly, easily pushing down the part of him that just wanted to watch and laugh as they all failed just like he did. Glancing over at the door as it opened and shut on an invisible person, he absently reached out with his mind and felt no-one, relaxing for a moment before something tugged softly on the leg of his pants.

"Master Harry Potter Sir?"

"Dob-" he froze as he caught sight of the terror in the house-elf's eyes and the tremor to his limbs. "What's wrong?"

"Dobby has come to warn you!" squeaked the elf, trembling from the tips of his toes all the way up past the eight knitted hats on his head. "But the house-elves have been warned not to tell..." as the house-elf made to sprint at the wall, Harry's hand snapped out and caught the normally excited elf with his telekinesis.

"Dobby? What were you warned not to tell us about? I don't want to know what it is," Harry interrupted quickly as Dobby whined, "I just want to know what whoever it was told you".

The house-elf looked stricken for a moment before freezing, blinking up at him in adoration before a grin flashed across his face. "Bossy Toadlady ordered the house-elves not to warn Harry Potter's group that she was coming to get them now," the house-elf blurted out quickly, slapping himself across the face seconds later.

The entire room going even quieter than Dobby's presence had already made it, Harry only had a couple of seconds to think before everyone started panicking. With dread rapidly filling his chest, he looked around the terrified students, wondering how in Merlin's name was he supposed to get them _all_ to safety. Even if he was willing to out his teleporting ability, he still wouldn't be able to transport _everyone_ to their common rooms before Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad showed up to –

" _If the Elders discover that the Solani still live, then a warning message will be sent out telepathically to everyone we can. If you're in Nighthaven when you get this message, you're to grab everyone who cannot travel through the wards on their own and smoke out, don't stand and fight just run"_.

"Dobby!" the house-elf stopped pinching himself immediately. "The house-elves aren't allowed to warn us, but can you all apparate us near our common rooms so we can escape Bossy Toadlady?" he asked quickly.

The house-elf didn't even stop to answer him, instead vanishing with a loud crack and leaving Harry to glance up at a proud-looking Hermione.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Harry roared to be heard over the panicked dim as he turned towards everyone else. "SPLIT UP INTO YOUR HOUSES AND THE HOUSE-ELVES WILL COME TO COLLECT YOU SAFELY! DO _NOT_ MENTION THE DA TO ANYONE, NOT EVEN EACH OTHER. DO _NOT_ APPROACH ME ASKING ABOUT NEXT WEEK'S CLASS. DO _NOT_ EVEN _THINK_ ABOUT THE DA UNTIL THE ALL-CLEAR IS GIVEN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

There was no time for answers though as house-elves appeared scattered all across the room and started sprinting at the DA members, tackling random groups at a time and vanishing with almost ear-splitting cracks.

It was utter chaos.

Meeting Hermione's eyes for a moment, Harry just reached out silently for her hand, his best friend blushing slightly as she accepted it and he pulled her close. "It's okay," he promised simply, "She won't catch us".

Hermione made to smile but instead froze, tearing herself from Harry's arms and running off into the still panicked crowd.

"Was it something I said?" he asked Dobby dumbly, the house-elf just blinking at him with wide eyes as Harry tried to track Hermione in the wildly moving group of students. "Girls, eh? They're impossible to understand".

"Got it!" Hermione exclaimed as she appeared out of nowhere, something white clutched in her hand.

Feeling Dobby's hand curling around his leg, Harry was being forced through a tube the size of a pin within seconds, all the air being forced from his lungs as he flew through the darkness with only Dobby's hand on his leg to hold him down. As quickly as it had begun it was over, leaving both Hermione and Harry collapsing to the floor gasping for breath in the middle of the Gryffindor common room.

"Quickly," Hermione rasped out, thrusting whatever was in her hands at Harry. "Destroy it; it's enchanted so only you can".

Blinking dumbly as he pulled the thing from Hermione's wildly waving arms, Harry found himself staring down at a piece of parchment bearing the names of all the DA's members. "I thought this was that contract of silence thing?" he questioned as he heard the Gryffindor members of the DA going around ordering their house-mates to claim they had been there all afternoon.

"It's also a list of our names," Hermione explained gently, "We can't leave it around for Umbridge to find!"

Realisation hitting him, Harry quickly shoved his way through the confused crowd to the fireplace, throwing the parchment in without hesitation, hearing a loud sigh of relief from Hermione as it started burning immediately.

"Meet me here at midnight again," Hermione ordered, appearing at his side to whisper in his ear, "We'll talk about it then. Right then," she continued loud enough to be overheard, "I guess you're right, I _am_ four chapters ahead in Transfiguration, I _do_ deserve some off time".

"Go finish that book your Mum sent you," Harry suggested lazily, catching on quickly. "You said you couldn't wait to start it right?"

"Exactly!"

As Hermione turned and headed straight up to her dormitory, Harry looked around the common room to find a surprise. Even the Gryffindors who Harry knew hated him and thought him an insane liar were looking at him with respect on their faces. He didn't need to try figure out what it meant though, as there was a quiet cough before someone spoke.

"Umbridge is a right pain in the ass isn't she?"

Roars erupting across the common room as people agreed with the speaker, Harry used the distraction for what it was and slipped through the crowd, heading towards his own dormitory. Glancing back to meet Neville's eye, Harry nodded in thanks for the distraction and started up the stairs, entering his dormitory and ignoring Ron as the red-haired moron started glaring at him immediately.

Tonight was too close, Harry realised as he dressed in casual sleeping clothes. If the DA ever wanted to meet up again they'd have to change how they did things a lot. For one they could never meet in the Room of Requirement again, if Umbridge knew where it was then it would be stupid to return. And secondly they needed to up their security measures to prevent her from finding out about it again, whether someone overheard them or one of their members tattled (something told Harry that they were betrayed by one of their own), they would need to make sure it didn't happen again.

That was, of course, if the DA could ever meet up again with him at its head. Umbridge would be watching him like a cat watches a mouse, ready to pounce the moment he put one toe out of line.

Hermione had been right last night; Umbridge would be making her move soon. And her failed attempt at catching them at the DA meeting would only spur her into making that move sooner rather than later.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

 **ENDLESS NIGHT**

* * *

 _I will admit. I'm a little disappointed that it seems like my sister was the only person to notice my joke about Dumbledore in the previous chapter. On the bright side though, that disappointment was quickly vanquished by **JasonDragon64** claiming I'm funnier than Jeff Dunham - while I'm hesitant to believe I could ever be funnier than that man, I'm flattered by the comparison!_


End file.
